A/N: Howdy again. Here's the next chapter, and one that's a bit shorter than the last two. Lots of Arthur in this one :) He's a lot of fun to write, although so is Merlin. Anyway, this is likely how long it will take for the udates to come from now on. Once a week isn't too bad (and it'll usually be in the middle of the week, as I always have Tuesdays off from work). I sort of ran out of prewritten chapters, so I'm writing like mad to get a few more written. It takes me a long time to write a chapter, as I get distracted really easily. I'm currently working on chapter 11 :)

I rather like this chapter, especially the first half. It was great fun. You'll see why :)

Thank you so much for the reviews! I always get so excited when I find I've got a new one. I love knowing what you guys think of my story and seeing the reactions. I'm having so much fun here. It's been a long time since I haven't had to force my writing and I can just get caught up in it. Thanks so much for all the support, and I hope I can continue to do well with this. I'm trying my best :)

Title: Healing Spells
Author: BeyondTheStorm
Rating: T for some violence and bloodshed, and for Merlin getting a bit too carried away.
Characters/pairings: Only friendship here :) Lots of Merlin and Arthur, and quite a bit of Gwen too, with some Morgana and a little bit of Gaius.
Spoilers: Um...lets just say everything up through 2x07, just to be safe.
Warnings: The self-harm is over, so I'll change this a bit. This story contains mentions of non-suicidal self-harm and blood. There we go. That should be accurate for the remainder of this story.


CHAPTER 9

Arthur sat in his chambers, waiting for Merlin to bring him his dinner. Technically the boy wasn't late yet, but he was getting there, and this time if he didn't show up when he was supposed to, the prince would go looking for him. After everything that had happened recently, he wouldn't be taking any chances. He was also going to have to keep a closer eye on his servant so that he didn't do anything else foolish. Merlin had proven time and time again that even though he couldn't lie very convincingly when asked a straightforward question, he was rather capable of hiding things. He was a warlock living right under the king's nose, after all, and everyone excluding the prince and Gaius were none the wiser. No one in their right mind would ever suspect Merlin of sorcery.

As he watched the door, still waiting, he twirled the knife he had taken from Merlin, being careful not to let it slip. He had every intention of having it destroyed, and he was well aware that the idea was irrational and pointless, but he was going to do it anyway. He had no intentions of letting his servant near anything sharp for a long time to come. Again, the idea was irrational, because Merlin hadn't actually been trying to harm himself in that way, but he really didn't care. He would do it if only to ease his mind.

Honestly, the boy was going to drive him insane one of these days, that or give him a heart attack. Twice now after having discovered Merlin's magic, something had happened where Gwen had come running to him, frantic and worried with Merlin's name falling from her lips. Both times he had feared the words that would follow. If it happened one more time, he was going to have to talk to his servant about doing things that made Gwen worry, because every time she came to him about the warlock, he could only think of the absolute worst outcome. The last thing he wanted was for Merlin's name to be followed by "was arrested for sorcery" or "used magic in front of your father." There were a whole slew of other situations he could think of, but each one would end the same way. They would all result in Merlin's execution.

No matter what, he couldn't let that happen, because somewhere along the way, he had lost the ability to picture a future Camelot without Merlin in it, even before he had known about the magic. Now that he knew, he was certain that he needed the warlock's help if he wanted to reach the throne one day. Past experiences had proven that rather soundly. It wasn't just that he needed Merlin's help to get there though. He wanted his friend to be there when it all eventually happened.

Unfortunately, Merlin seemed rather hell-bent on making sure it happened through whatever means necessary, even if it meant his life. Arthur was painfully aware of everything the boy had done for him. They had had a very long talk after that dreadful day over a month ago, and the prince now knew the full story about everything that had occurred since Merlin's arrival in Camelot. In hindsight, he should've been able to notice some of it, the incident with the Questing Beast in particular. That story had been hard to listen to for multiple reasons.

From now on, he was going to try harder at not putting Merlin in those kinds of situations. The warlock would never change his opinions when it came to his responsibility to Arthur, and so all the prince could do was make sure that his friend wasn't put in a position where he'd have to sacrifice himself, because Merlin had and would continue to do so.

That day five weeks ago was still crystal clear in Arthur's mind. It would probably never fade, nor would he forget any of the words that were exchanged. He could still hear that sorcerer taunting Merlin, threatening him, saying that regardless of the outcome, the warlock would be killed…unless he allowed him to kill the prince. He had tried to convince Merlin that Arthur would never forgive him, would turn him over without a second thought, and that the boy's only chance at survival would be to let the prince die so that no one would ever know he was a sorcerer.

And Merlin—selfless, loyal-to-a-fault Merlin—had said he didn't care. He didn't care if Arthur hated him, didn't care if he were arrested or exiled or killed.

"As long as Arthur lives and Camelot stands, it doesn't matter what happens to me."

He would never forget those words, nor would he forget the moment the battle ended and he was released from the sorcerer's spell (one that likely would have killed him instantly had it not been for Merlin) only to see his best friend fall—pale, cold, and not breathing. Merlin had been willing to give up everything for the sake of Camelot's crown prince, but it was more than that. He had been willing to give everything up for Arthur.

The lies, the betrayal, the magic—none of it had mattered in the face of such unwavering and selfless loyalty, and he had found that there was no anger or hurt to accompany the revelation. He hadn't thought of treachery or treason, and his father's laws had been the furthest thing from his mind. None of it had mattered. There had only been desperation and a sickening fear in the face of a fading heartbeat.

The fact that Merlin was alive was nothing short of a miracle.

The sound of his door opening quickly drew him away from his thoughts, and he watched as his servant walked in with a dinner tray in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. He had gotten rather used to Merlin just walking in, without announcing himself or knocking, but at the same time he didn't appreciate being startled when he was deep in thought. However, talking to Merlin about it hadn't left much of an impression on the boy, and so he had eventually just given up and accepted it as part of their rather unconventional master/servant relationship.

He was glad that he had, because when Merlin did knock before coming in, it was usually because something was horribly wrong (another thing he had figured out after the reveal, something that perhaps Merlin himself was unaware of). That night after he'd recovered from the bite of the Questing Beast had been one such incident. Now that he knew what Merlin had been trying to say and what he had intended to do, Arthur never wanted to hear Merlin knock on his door again.

"You're late," he said as Merlin set the tray down.

"Sorry," said the warlock rather absently as he set everything out, all the while not looking at Arthur. There had been no retort, no defiance, not even a correction (because Merlin wasn't actually that late, all things considered). Instead he had apologized and was behaving subserviently. From any other servant, it would be expected, but not from Merlin. Something was obviously bothering the warlock. He looked distracted.

"Merlin," said Arthur, drawing his friend's attention. "Sit." He motioned to the chair across from him. It wasn't a request. This time it was an order, and oddly enough, his servant listened without casting him a questioning look or being startled by the offer.

Something was definitely going on.

"I know something's wrong," he said as soon as Merlin was seated at the table. "Let's skip the part where you try to deny it and go right to the explanation, because it's been a long day and I'm really not in the mood for an interrogation."

"You make it sound like I was going to try and hide something from you."

"You can hardly blame me for that after today."

He saw the boy wince at the reminder of their earlier encounter, but Merlin covered it up quickly with a sigh before holding up the piece of parchment he had brought with him and placing it on the table.

"I got another letter from Gaius," he said rather somberly, pushing it towards Arthur. The prince ignored his dinner for the moment and picked up the somewhat crumpled letter, unfolding it. He had to read through it twice before the implications fully sunk in, and he looked up at Merlin with a resigned expression.

"It's magic, isn't it."

"I'm afraid so."

Gaius had written his letter rather wisely. Arthur expected nothing less from the physician. He hadn't mentioned magic directly, hadn't even hinted at it really, but anyone who knew about the secret that Gaius and Merlin had been keeping from all of Camelot would be able to read between the lines. He had probably written it that way just in case anyone else decided to read it. Gaius would never incriminate Merlin or himself, not even accidentally. He was far too careful for that.

Despite the situation, Arthur couldn't help but enjoy the feeling he got from being in on Merlin's secret. In the past, the warlock probably wouldn't have shown him the letter. Instead, Merlin likely would have vanished with some terribly formed cover story (or no story at all), leaving the prince without a servant and without a real explanation for the absence. That or Merlin would have attempted to lie about Gaius needing his help or something like that. Arthur was really starting to appreciate the new knowledge he had about his servant, if only because he would no longer have to listen to obvious lies and wonder what Merlin was trying to hide from him.

It was very liberating, and the camaraderie was something that couldn't be put into words.

"My father has been asking if we've received any word from Gaius," he said, handing the letter back. "I've told him only a few of the things you've told me, but I think it'd be in everyone's best interests if I don't tell him about this."

"But…aren't you obligated to report this?"

"Do you want to explain this letter to him?"

"No."

"Then stop questioning my decision."

"But Arthur…"

The prince sighed, because once again Merlin couldn't seem to follow the simplest of orders. He had never met a servant who talked back as much as Merlin. Even when the prince was trying to make things easier for him, the warlock insisted on questioning him.

"Even though the letter doesn't say it, Gaius suspects that magic is involved and that this illness could infect the entire kingdom."

"Your point being?"

"If you don't tell your father, you'll be committing treason."

He just stared blankly at his servant, Camelot's own secret warlock, because there was no way he could have actually just said that. The boy's face flooded with color not long after though, and Arthur couldn't decide whether to laugh or sigh. Honestly, of all the pointless, stupid things that had ever been said to him, leave it to Merlin to just top them all.

Apparently he had forgotten that Arthur was committing treason every day by protecting him.

"…Right," said Merlin, dragging the word out a bit while looking away. "Sorry, never mind."

Despite the fact that Arthur was looking at him as if the warlock were completely addled, Merlin couldn't help but feel a bit touched about the whole thing. He hadn't really thought much of it, but by not telling Uther about his magic, Arthur was committing treason. He was deliberately breaking the laws of Camelot for his servant, and the prince didn't even seem to care. Out of everyone, such a decision should have weighed heavily on the crown prince, but it didn't. Arthur had sworn to protect his secret and that one day he would no longer have to hide his magic.

Until then they would simply have to commit treason for the sake of Camelot. It was hard to remember at times that they always were.

"Sometimes I wonder, Merlin," began Arthur, "if you really are mentally afflicted."

Merlin sometimes wondered that too. Probably best not to tell Arthur that though. There was no reason to turn speculation into fact.

"Anyway, as I was saying before you chose to interrupt me with utter rubbish, we will keep the information in this letter between us. There's no reason to inform anyone else. I don't want word getting back to my father. He's suspicious enough about the whole ordeal as it is."

"Fine with me." Merlin was used to keeping things from Uther. He could fix problems a lot more easily without the king's involvement.

"I think it'd be best if we leave first thing tomorrow. Greenswood is about a three day ride, and we can't afford to waste time."

"We?"

"That's what I said."

That was something else that Merlin was still getting used to. He was so used to running off on his own to deal with magical threats, if only because it was necessary, that it was both a surprise and a comfort to realize that Arthur had every intention of going with. For so long he had been protecting Camelot like this on his own, in the shadows, but not anymore. Arthur knew, and the prince wanted to help. Even if they were still getting used to this new way of relying on each other, the two of them were a team. It felt like there was nothing they couldn't handle now, despite how irrational and unfounded that thought was.

A smile broke out on the warlock's face, and he hoped Arthur knew without being told just how grateful he was for that one small word.

"You'll need to gather supplies and ready the horses," said Arthur, continuing from where he left off. "We could be gone for quite some time."

"And what will you tell your father? We can't just leave without an explanation."

"…I haven't been hunting in a while. I'll tell him that I'm going on an extended hunting trip. Two weeks should be long enough."

"You really think he'll let you leave for two whole weeks?"

"If I tell him that I'll stop in Greenswood and check on Gaius, I'm sure he'll allow it. He'd never admit it, but I know he's worried. Besides, this way our story is at least partially true."

"He won't insist that you take some knights with you, will he?"

"I hope not. I'm sure I can convince him otherwise."

"Alright," said Merlin as he stood up to leave. "I'll start packing then."

He was about to head for the door when he noticed the knife lying on the table. It was the one he had been using earlier, the one he hadn't been able to find after Arthur left. Apparently the prince had taken it with him. It was one of Gaius' knives, the one he usually used for chopping up herbs.

Merlin reached for it, having every intention of taking it back with him, but a hand shot out and snatched it away. He looked over at the prince only to be met with a glare as Arthur held onto the knife rather firmly, keeping it near him and away from the warlock.

"That's my knife…well, Gaius' knife," he said, because maybe Arthur had forgotten that fact.

"I know."

"I'd like it back."

"Well, you're not getting it back."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But why? It belongs to Gaius. He likes to use it for chopping herbs. He'll notice it's missing."

"Then you should have thought of that before you used it to cut yourself up!"

Merlin fell silent, a wince his only reply. He had nothing to say to that. It was true, after all. Apparently it had been too much to hope that Arthur would just let go of this after all the explanations were given. He wondered how long it would take to put this behind them. Judging by Arthur's expression, they still had a long way to go. It would likely be awhile before the prince fully trusted him again, unconditionally and without any suspicion. Worst of all, he couldn't blame his friend for such a reaction. It was only natural, all things considered.

"Arthur," he began softly, "I wasn't trying to hurt myself." He would say it over and over, as many times as it took, until the prince believed him.

"That doesn't change the fact that you did."

"Gaius really likes that knife…"

"You're not getting it back. I'll buy Gaius a new knife if he needs it, but this one stays with me."

Merlin sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump in defeat. There was no point in arguing. Arthur was stubborn, and for some reason he was choosing to be particularly stubborn about this. It was best to just accept the fact that he wasn't going to be getting that knife back. Hopefully Gaius wouldn't notice its absence.

"Fine, keep it," said Merlin as he walked over to the door. He glanced back at Arthur as the prince finally started to eat his dinner, and from the look on his face, the majority of it had gone cold. The prince frowned a bit before looking up at his servant, who was just managing to suppress an amused smile.

"Merlin," he began, "could you…?"

The warlock quickly whispered the words that would warm up the food. Arthur glanced down at it before looking back up.

"…Thank you."

This time he couldn't hide his smile. A simple display of magic and those two words proved more than anything that they'd be alright again. Perhaps not at the moment, but eventually.

"You're welcome, sire."


When morning came, Arthur began to make his way to the stables. Everything had been packed the previous evening, and after dinner, the prince had gone to his father to tell him about the hunting trip. Even though the king hadn't been entirely thrilled with the idea, especially when Arthur had told him that he intended to bring only Merlin along, Uther had eventually relented. Throwing in the part about checking up on Gaius and the physician's progress with the illness had probably helped considerably.

It had been a long time since the prince had been out hunting. Five weeks to be exact, and he was itching to get back out into the forest, away from the city and all the restrictions that came with it. Out in the forest with only Merlin as company, he could relax and do as he liked, without the watchful eyes of Camelot judging his every word and action. Even though they were heading off on a mission, it would still be a welcomed break from everything else.

As he was about to leave the castle and head out into the courtyard, he heard someone call out to him. It didn't take him long to realize who it was. The prince turned and watched as Morgana made her way down the corridor, her stride a mixture of elegance and audacity. An odd combination, surely, but it was something that just seemed natural for the king's ward. Morgana indeed possessed all the beauty and grace of a lady of the court, but she also possessed the nature of a fighter even though most of her sparring was verbal these days.

He wondered if today would bring such an encounter.

"I heard you were leaving," she said upon reaching him, getting right to the point, but there was something very cautious in her voice if not her words. Her eyes met his easily, holding them in a rather intense gaze but one no less guarded.

"I decided to go hunting," he said.

"Is that the only reason?"

He got the feeling that what she really wanted to ask was if that was the reason. Once more he found himself cursing her odd ability of knowing things. He and Merlin hadn't told anyone about the letter or about what they were really doing, and yet somehow it sounded like Morgana knew that this hunting trip was nothing more than a guise.

"Why do you ask?"

It wasn't an answer to her question, but if she already knew, then what was the point?

Morgana didn't say anything. She just watched him with unfocused eyes, and it was making him more than a little uncomfortable.

"Morgana?"

She blinked, and suddenly it was all gone. She shook her head briefly, as if clearing something away, before offering him a small but still very guarded smile.

"It's nothing," she assured him. "Forget I asked."

"Of course."

"Just…be careful, Arthur, and make sure you look after Merlin. Every time I've seen him, he's looked so tired. I fear such a long trip may do him more harm than good."

"He'll be fine, Morgana. It'll only be two weeks."

"Promise me that you'll bring him back, that both of you will return safely. Promise me, Arthur."

He could remember so many similar encounters with Morgana, where she would come to him so earnestly with words of concern or fear, a plea falling from the same mouth that could deliver a witty retort or a clever manipulation. Nothing good ever came from them, and they always left him a bit nonplussed. It seemed to be a certain skill that many of the people close to him had somehow developed.

Morgana just kept staring at him, looking both worried and determined, and once more he found himself in a situation where so much was being left unsaid, hiding just below the surface but never within reach. However, with Morgana it was difficult to read between the lines. She was someone he hadn't figured out completely yet, and he got the feeling he never would unless whatever secret she was hiding was dragged into the light, and she was hiding one. When you knew what to look for, it wasn't hard to tell.

He really wanted to ask her why she was so worried and what she knew, but he decided it was better not to. She wouldn't tell him anyway, at least not in any great detail. He would simply have to take her actions into consideration and be just a bit more cautious while traveling. A worried Morgana never seemed to bode well for anyone, certainly not for him.

"Alright," he said. "I promise."

She graced him with a very soft, relieved smile.

"Thank you."

Without another word, she turned and strode back down the corridor, leaving him with the sense that he had missed something rather important just now. He didn't have much time to think about it though as he caught sight of Merlin making his way across the courtyard, looking rather nervous while doing so. The boy was carrying a lot of bags, and in one was a rather illegal book, one that would get him killed if he were caught with it.

Watching him, Arthur couldn't help but wonder how Merlin had managed to stay alive for so long, because apparently he was incapable of acting inconspicuous while doing something rather treasonous. Thinking back, there were quite a few times where Merlin had clearly been doing something magic related and concealing it poorly. There were many, many times where Merlin had had a suspicious look about him.

Thankfully no one would ever suspect Merlin of sorcery, regardless of how suspicious he sometimes acted. The warlock's natural clumsiness and cheerful nature helped a lot with that. Half of Camelot would probably think he was too much of an idiot to be a sorcerer while the other half would say he was too kindhearted to ever dabble in something as dark as magic. Both were true and yet so very wrong, because Merlin was a sorcerer, possibly the most powerful sorcerer Camelot had ever seen.

For being such a terrible liar, Merlin certainly had everyone fooled.

Arthur quickly descended the stairs and caught up with his servant who looked rather relieved to see him there, probably because there was less of a chance that he'd be questioned if he were with the prince. Merlin was rarely ever questioned by the guards anyway, seeing as how everyone knew who his master was, and most would never dare to interrupt the prince's servant just incase the errand he was on was an important one. Even if he were acting suspiciously, he likely wouldn't be stopped and questioned, at least not by anyone who knew him and whose household he belonged to.

Funny how Merlin was protected simply by his association with Arthur. That combined with everything else—the clumsiness, cheerfulness, the theorized mental affliction, and the boy's overwhelming loyalty—practically guaranteed that unless the warlock did something truly idiotic with his magic, he was safe from suspicion. Most people would probably laugh if someone tried to pin him with the crime of magic. Merlin was more or less safe from the executioner's axe, and Arthur intended to keep it that way.

"You're late," he said by way of greeting, because technically it was true. Merlin should have already been at the stables, preparing the horses.

"Not that late," the boy shot back, obviously in a much better mood than he had been the previous day. Even though the information in Gaius' letter was likely weighing heavily on him, the warlock no longer seemed to be letting it bother him, at least not too much.

"Did you pack enough supplies? This trip will be considerably longer than any of the others we've been on."

"I know that, and yes, I packed enough. Besides, if I did forget anything, it won't be too hard to work around it, I'm sure."

Arthur couldn't help but grin, because he knew what that meant. With just the two of them, Merlin could use his magic freely. Their trip would likely be a lot easier because of it. Having a warlock for a servant was proving to be rather convenient. Also, even though he'd never admit it, he was a bit anxious to see exactly what sort of things Merlin could do with his magic. Hearing about it wasn't the same as seeing, and even though it likely wouldn't be anything spectacular, he was still curious. He had barely seen his friend do any sort of magic after finding out, mostly because it was dangerous for both of them, but out in the forest and away from the city, there would be no one to see. The prince was a bit excited just thinking about it (and only on pain of death would he ever admit to such a thing).

Living in Camelot, he had only ever seen magic used for cruel purposes, mainly for killing him and his father as well as devastating Camelot. Merlin had proven to him though that magic could be used to protect as well as destroy and that it was the wielder who made the decision. Magic was power, and power corrupts, but the same could be said for the power he held, the strength of a warrior and the birthright of a prince. It was his belief that people should be judged on what they do, not what they're capable of doing. So far Merlin had only used his magic in order to take care of the people he cared about and to protect Camelot. Where was the evil in that? How could anyone fault him for it?

In that moment five weeks ago, where his best friend had revealed himself to be a sorcerer and had been willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of Arthur—not the crown prince but the person—he had known that his father was wrong. Magic in the hands of someone like Merlin could only ever be used for good with the best of intentions, and there was nothing anyone could do or say to change his mind about that.

When the two of them reached the stables, Merlin quickly began to get their horses ready for the journey. Arthur just stood back and watched, letting the boy do what he was actually paid for. Sure, he could easily help, but there was no reason to. Merlin wasn't actually a terrible servant, just a bit clumsy and occasionally late with his duties. The boy had certainly gotten a lot better since those first few weeks so very long ago. Sure, Merlin would never truly be a proper servant, what with the constant chatter and insubordination, but he had come to expect that from the warlock. The thought of Merlin acting any other way was practically incomprehensible.

"So, what did you tell your father?" asked Merlin as he finished saddling up one horse and moved on to the other.

"I told him I was going on an extended hunting trip in the forests outside of Greenswood," said Arthur, earning him a rather curious and somewhat surprised look from his servant. "While there, I said I'd check on Gaius and lend a hand if needed. I asked for two weeks, and as expected, he wanted to send some knights along after I mentioned that it would just be you accompanying me. It wasn't hard to convince him otherwise, seeing as how we already sent quite a few knights with Gaius. If word were to get out that we were sending more, it could cause the people to panic. Father doesn't want Camelot to appear weak in the face of a 'mere illness,' so he relented."

"Wow…you really thought this through."

"Yes, well, father wouldn't have accepted anything less, I'm sure. Two weeks is a rather long time. Besides, this way our story is at least close to the truth."

It wasn't long before both horses were ready for the journey, and the two of them led the animals out of the stables. They both mounted rather effortlessly, but they didn't make for the gate. Instead they glanced back at the castle and then at the city before them. The last time they left, they had almost been prevented from returning. Their last hunting trip had revealed one of Camelot's biggest secrets, but it had nearly cost them both far too much. They could only hope that this time things would be different.

The prince spared a glance for the warlock next to him, and he couldn't help but notice that Merlin did look rather tired. All those experiments and all that magic had caught up with him, and Arthur found himself grateful that he had found out when he did so he could stop his friend from making a mistake. Who knows how far he would've gone if he had been left to keep practicing. Merlin was rather reckless. He needed to watch over the boy just as surely as Merlin watched over him.

Earlier, Arthur had made a promise to Morgana that both of them would return. With all the power he had, he intended to keep it.