Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favourites. So, here we are at the penultimate chapter - thanks to all those who are still here and who have shared your thoughts I really appreciate all your comments. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Special thanks to Caldera32 my wonderful beta.
Chapter 10: Home Truths
Arthur can't help staring at his hands. He flexes and extends his fingers examining the backs then the palms, new callouses and cuts mar them now but the old aches and pains never return. He shudders, remembering the warmth and tingle of Merlin's magic as it brushed against his skin. He's been touched by magic before; thrown against walls, subjected to horrific pain and made to see, feel, and do what was not his will. Merlin's magic was different; not at all what he expected and yet familiar - that in itself unnerves him. Arthur's fist crashed against his thigh, he does not want to pursue these thoughts, does not like where they lead him - nor does he want the images that continue to plague him and keep him awake at night. He tries to forget Merlin's distraught expression and blazing golden eyes, his grey face with blood trickling from his nose, but he can't.
Four days pass before Arthur can go back. He's heard the rumours and tried to stay away but the pull is too great. He has to see for himself.
The king pushes open the door to see Merlin laid out on the bed, still and pale. There is no shroud but the sight of his former friend sucks the air from Arthur's lungs. A tight band forms around his own chest as he stares intently at Merlin's, waiting for him to inhale - once he has Arthur allows himself to breathe again.
He is not sure how long he stands there, paralysed, conflicted and trying to make sense of a man he thought he knew.
Merlin has been unresponsive since the incident. Gaius has managed to get some potions and honeyed water into him but it is not enough. Merlin's cheeks are hollow and the silhouette of his ribs is clearly visible beneath stretched skin - surely he could not go on for much longer, unless there is a change.
Arthur's kept Merlin's secret to himself; he can't explain why he hasn't disclosed it. His knights and wife have attributed his demeanour to concern over Merlin's well-being and the king has not corrected those assumptions. He has needed the time to be alone and think, even pushing Guinevere away and pointedly ignoring Gwaine.
Keeping his distance has inadvertently appeased the council; apparently there had been some discord at the amount of time their king had devoted to a mere peasant. Personal servant or not, the close proximity had been seen as improper. The royal lets out a snort, shaking his head. By the gods, if they knew the truth!
A small cough pulls Arthur from his trance.
"Sire?"
"How is he, Gaius?" He says automatically.
"Stable."
"Has he woken yet?"
"No."
"It's been five days – is he going to?"
Arthur dreads the answer. Have my actions already condemned the man before he's even had a chance to explain himself? To a knight, honour and principle are everything; yet in his initial fury he had denied Merlin the basic right to speak. Tendrils of shame coil 'round the king but before they can fully take hold Gaius interrupts.
"An unexpected setback but I hope there will be a sign soon."
The king does not acknowledge the answer; he stands still, lost in his own thoughts.
"Have there been any changes?" He eventually manages, when the silence stretches too long.
"Some - he's responding to light and sounds now, there are occasional movements too but I still have to turn him to prevent bed sores."
Arthur never wanted this. When Merlin confessed he'd been angry and lashed out. The truth hurt and he had wanted to hurt in return but not this. He would not wish this state on his worst enemy.
"Why is he like this?"
Gaius gestures to a chair. The king takes it and the physician sits beside him.
"I cannot say for certain, but sometimes the body heals best while it is asleep and Merlin has been through a lot."
Arthur is amazed at how economical Gaius can be with the truth. He supposes it has always been this way but he never noticed before. How could I be deceived so easily?
"We must have faith he will recover." The physician encourages, patting Arthur's leg, but the gesture brings no comfort.
"When I found him I did not think he would." Arthur finds himself saying. I would have done anything to save him then, risked everything, and now...?
"There is no denying the severity of the injury, Sire. If you had not been there he may well have perished."
Perhaps that would have been better? I could have mourned a hero, not a broken friendship and a betrayal. Arthur shakes his head, not wanting to give the notion credence. It almost seems safer to voice his thoughts rather than let them swirl and become ever darker.
"When the druids appeared, I thought it would be alright... that they could help him."
"They did."
"I thought they could have done more."
Things had changed so much within the space of days. Knowing the damage and pain magic brought, he'd still been desperate to use it to save Merlin; he'd even been angry with the druids for withholding it. Yet if he could accept magic then, why could he not accept Merlin having it now? Because he lied; he did not trust me and he's not the man I thought he was.
"The wound was attended to, what else could be done?"
Arthur is startled from his thoughts. "What?"
"The injury was treated appropriately given the circumstances, Sire."
"It does not matter. I was a fool; I see that now." Arthur acknowledges, shaking his head.
The physician sighs. "Because you were prepared to use magic to heal him?"
Arthur does not speak, he does not have to - the set of his face says it all.
Gaius places a hand on his shoulder. "It takes a lot of courage to ask for help," the physician pauses, "to challenge your beliefs. I'm proud of you, Arthur."
The compliment tastes sour. Arthur retracts his shoulder, pulling away and standing abruptly. "They would not do it. I thought it was because of who I am, that they were scared."
This is what really hurt, that Arthur had been prepared to forgo his beliefs and beg for help and all the time Merlin had the ability to save himself. Another voice challenges that assumption. Then why didn't he? Why is he like this now - an empty shell? Why wouldn't the druids help one of their own?
The physician rubs his face. "Sit down, Arthur."
Once the king is settled Gaius began.
"Arthur, because of all that happened with your father you have never known the true extent of what it means to have magic. Herbology may be common now, but even before the purge few had the skills required for direct healing. It is notoriously difficult and available only to the very powerful or those specifically gifted in that area."
"Why?"
The physician hesitates as if suspicious of the king's sudden interest.
"Gaius?"
"In much the same way as it is easier to destroy something than build it. It takes time and effort; spells needed to be precise, required a great deal of power, concentration, and to a certain extent clinical detachment. The caster needed some rudimentary medical or anatomical knowledge and success was largely dependent on the ailment and the recipient. Magic only enhances the body's natural ability to mend, it does not replace it."
"So physicians were still needed before the purge?"
"Of course. Magic has never been a cure-all. Healing uses twice the energy of the initial injury or illness involved. The body naturally takes time to recover, speeding up that process only gives the illusion of heath, a temporary solution until the body can catch up. It's not as simple as saying a spell; a conduit such as an amulet or potion was often needed to concentrate the power and protect the user."
"Protect?"
"Healing magic is draining and can be dangerous. If the recipient had magic of their own, the healer could utilise that or use another medium to enhance enchantment."
"But they could heal themselves?" Arthur urges.
"It was not advisable." The physician pauses, then asks. "Is there something else you wish to discuss? You have never shown such interest before."
"Answer the question, Gaius. Why can't sorcerers heal themselves?" Even as he says the words his stomach tightens.
"There is no reserve; generating the magic necessary will just take energy from elsewhere and if that person is already ailing it will only make things worse.
"I see."
The magnitude of what he'd done hits Arthur like a punch to the stomach. Merlin had tried to warn him but had followed his orders regardless. Arthur had been so wrapped up in Merlin's betrayal that he'd never stopped to think what he uses magic for - now he may never know. This was all his fault. Arthur places his head in his hands.
"Sire?"
The king looks away, then towards Merlin.
"I made him do it."
"What?"
"I made him do it, Gaius."
The physician's face pales.
"Merlin told me he has magic, Gaius."
When there is no reply, Arthur continues. "We argued and I left the room. He must have... I think he tried to follow, he called for me then I heard a crash. When I came back he was on the floor, there was blood everywhere and I was so angry. I kept thinking of everything we'd been through, how unnecessary it had been and I demanded he heal it."
"I see. You should have told me."
"What difference would it make? You know what he did. You know what he is." The royal snaps.
"Sire?"
"I heard you, Gaius." He turns to look at the physician. "You knew he had magic, all this time. How long have you known? How long has he been hiding?
Gaius squares his shoulders and stands up straight, in contrast to his usual measured and careful responses, the statement is defiant. "He saved my life with magic the day we met."
"What?"
"Do you remember when Merlin came to Camelot? It was during the time your father was celebrating twenty years since the beginning of the purge. Can you recall what spectacle there was in the square?"
Arthur nods. Of course he remembers the executions - how could I forget?
"Well, I was working in here, up on the balcony." Gaius gestures to the rickety structure. "Merlin entered these chambers just as I slipped, the railing broke and I fell. He saved me - froze time, moved the bed under me, all within an instant and without incantation."
The royal stares, incredulous. "You said nothing?"
"I said plenty; it was a foolish thing to do, especially after what he'd witnessed in the courtyard! But I would not condemn a boy whose only crime was being born."
"Born?"
"With magic."
"That's not possible."
"Merlin is unique."
Arthur pulls at his hair. "Then why come to Camelot?"
"Where else would you have him go? Stay in Ealdor, a small farming village where he'd been shunned and bullied all his life?"
"What?" Merlin had always said he did not fit in but had never elaborated.
"Merlin is a bastard, Sire; the situation does not make for a happy childhood. As you know, he will try and help those in need and thus attracts trouble. He has always been viewed as different and treated with suspicion; it was only a matter of time before someone discovered his secret."
"Magic is not banned in Essetir."
Gaius gives a rueful laugh. "Sorcerers were hunted in Cenred's kingdom just as keenly as this one; not to be executed, but to be enslaved and used as weapons against their will. Someone like Merlin would be highly sought after - a vulnerable and malleable child."
Arthur swallowed down bile. He'd heard of such things - the image of a child, of Merlin in a collar and chains, makes him sick but Gaius has not finished.
"Or maybe his mother should have cast him out as a babe, left this abomination on some hillside to perish?"
The royal flinches at the term, shaking his head, but the physician continues.
"Like any mother, Hunith only wanted what was best for her child. She made him hide but he's exceptional, sending him here was a last resort."
"Why here?"
"She thought I could teach him to control it."
"You taught him magic, Gaius?"
"No." The old man snorts. "He was born with it. Merlin had more innate magic when he arrived than I have ever had - more than anyone I have ever known or read about - completely untamed. No, I taught him to be cautious, to protect his secret above all else. He wanted to tell you but I advised against it - for his deception you have me to blame. He's only ever helped Camelot, Arthur. You have no idea of the sacrifices he has made for you and this kingdom."
"Careful, Gaius, you were never this bold with my father."
"I have lived a long life by exercising discretion and restraint. I am an old man now and the only things I hold dear are in this room. I have always been a loyal servant but if I lose Merlin, I lose everything. My faith in you as a king will die alongside the man who has become like a son to me. So do you as you see fit."
"No, Gaius!"
Bony fingers wrap around the old man's wrist, terminating his tirade. The royal and the physician both gasp, looking down at the patient who was now very much awake. Merlin looks toward the king.
"Gaius is a physician, a good man, you need him - don't punish him because of me."
Arthur studies the defiant face of the physician and then Merlin. His former friend's pleas for clemency are not for himself but someone else, always someone else comes first.
"You may take your leave, Gaius."
Gaius looks towards his ward, who nods his assent.
"As you wish, Sire." The physician gives a curt bow and leaves the room.
It is very quiet until Merlin ventures to speak. "Thank you."
The silence that follows is painful. The king stares at the servant for a long time but does not answer. When he does it's a hollow whisper.
"So, will you be alright now?"
Merlin lets out a mirthless laugh. "You tell me?" But before Arthur has a chance to answer he hastily regains his composure. "I was already weak and trying to heal myself drained all my magic - my body completely shut down to recover."
"It's still there?"
"The magic?"
The king flinches then nods.
"I wouldn't have woken up otherwise. I am magic, Arthur. Whilst I live, it will never go away."
"Right." Arthur sucks in a breath through his teeth.
"What are you going to do?"
"I don't know."
"I only -"
"You lied to me, Merlin."
"Yes."
"You could have told me."
"I did."
Arthur stops. Yes, Merlin had told him and look what happened.
"I nearly killed you." He croaks.
"Isn't that what's supposed to happen to sorcerers?" Merlin replies without humour.
"Damn it, Merlin, I'm not… I did not mean... I'm not going to execute you."
"Banish me?"
"You're hardly in a state to travel."
"No."
Arthur gets up. He strides over to the small window and turns his back on Merlin and drums his fingers on the sill. "Can you stop?" He eventually says.
"Stop what?"
"Using magic?"
The king turns to face his servant. Merlin fidgets and pulls at the threads on his shirt.
"No."
"No you can't or no you won't?"
"I can't."
Arthur raises an eyebrow.
"I've tried... " He scrunches up his face and looks away. "When I was around five I stopped; it was really hard but I needed to do it… I thought it would make her happy. It didn't. I got sick and it started bursting out of me. Mother got really angry. I thought it was because of all the broken things - I said I could fix them but she just grabbed my shoulders and kept shaking me. She begged me never to hold it in."
"Did you?"
"I thought it would be easier as I got older - I managed nearly two weeks once." He gives a tight smile.
"What happened?"
"I collapsed." Merlin flops back on the pillow with a huff. "Will wouldn't leave me alone, then things started exploding, I felled a tree - it destroyed Old man Simmons farm. Mother sent me to Camelot after that."
Merlin had done all that as a mere adolescent! The royal thought about his bumbling servant and wondered if his clumsiness was just an act or the result of trying to hold magic in - like a loaded crossbow.
"You're dangerous!" He blurts out.
"No, Arthur. I've never lost control since then - I can't. My magic is powerful; I could command the skies, level mountains, and control the oceans if I chose to but I don't use it for ill and I never will. I've only ever used it for good, for protection, for you."
Arthur was having difficulty equating the frail figure with these great acts and yet he knows it is all true. To have that much power and not lose his temper, to be belittled and treated the way Arthur knew Merlin sometimes was by other nobles, by himself - the man never lashed out. Merlin was better than he. There had always been something about him, something unworldly, and now Arthur knew what it was. However, it was Merlin's last statement that resonated.
"Protection?"
"You can't escape your heritage, Arthur; nor can I. Being born a royal makes you a target but I was born to protect you – it's not been easy keeping you safe."
"Keeping me safe?" Arthur points to his chest. "You can barely look after yourself, as soon as there's any sort of skirmish you hide behind a bush..."
Arthur stops, suddenly recalling all their good fortune in bandit attacks; the dropped swords, the trips and convenient falling branches. It was not luck at all; Merlin had manipulated the odds from the sidelines.
"You weren't hiding, were you?"
Merlin shakes his head silently and Arthur looks up at the ceiling.
"I don't know you anymore."
"I'm still the same person."
"Not to me."
"Having magic does not change who I am."
"Wrong! It changes everything! Out of everyone else, I thought I could rely on you above all."
"You still can -"
"I thought you were an affable idiot but that's not true is it? You're clever and devious and you've lied to me since the moment we met. You made me think you were innocent, a simple buffoon, but you're not and never were."
"You think I wanted that?" Merlin yells, banging his chest. "To conceal that part of myself? I've only ever wanted to be accepted for what I am. People treat me like an idiot because that's what they expect. I may be a peasant but I'm apprentice to a physician, I know languages, I write speeches, and I ride at your side in battle. You ask my council and yet ignore my warnings because I am just a worthless servant!"
"No."
"I wanted to believe that, Arthur - sometimes I even thought we were friends, that we were beyond titles, but I was just a servant to you."
"Never."
"You're right; now I'm just a sorcerer like all the others - corrupt, evil, and hell-bent on destroying Camelot."
"I never said that!"
"You didn't have to."
"Why are you here, Merlin?"
"I told you, I was born to protect you. At first I did because it was my duty and you needed it – so arrogant and obnoxious - but then I saw you had a good heart and I believed in the king you would become."
"I didn't ask for your help - I managed fine before you showed up! Why did I only start getting attacked after you appeared?"
"You came of age."
"That makes no sense."
"Children are innocent, Arthur, didn't you know? Even avenging sorcerers have some moral code and won't kill infants. Once you come of age you're a man and responsible for your own actions."
Arthur had no response to that. All his life he'd been taught the treachery of sorcery and yet there were some lines even they would not cross, lines his father slashed through under the pretence of justice. Uther had certainly never considered children of magic users innocent, he'd drowned them all. Babes, women, and children were all guilty in his eyes, even when there was no magic - mere association was enough .
Merlin dips his head."What does it matter now anyway? You see what you want to and believe what you want to – nothing I can say or do will alter that."
You're wrong, Merlin. You're the first person ever to question my judgement, to challenge me. I'm a better man because of you.
"All those times I called you a coward, I never really meant it; I always thought you were the bravest person I knew..."
Merlin shrugs.
"- and now I know you are."
To stay in Camelot, to stand up to a king; even now Merlin's not pleading for his life – just understanding.
"All those times we succeeded against the odds; skeleton armies, immortal soldiers, dragons and other foes... it was you, wasn't it?"
"I might have helped a bit."
Arthur snorts. "You never sought any credit?"
"That's not why I did it."
Arthur rubs his face; he's tired and not slept in days.
"Then why?"
"Same as you - because it's the right thing to do. I want to live in a land that is fair and just, Arthur. A kingdom where people are judged for what they do not who they are. I believed you were a king that could make that happen, that you could set me free."
"And now?"
"You are destined to be the greatest king that ever lived; the Once and Future King. It has been said you will unite the five kingdoms, bring peace and usher in a new age of equality."
"You really believe that?"
"I want to."
"After everything that's happened, you still have faith?"
"It has been foretold."
"Something you saw in a crystal?"
Merlin shakes his head. "A prophecy written long before we were born; Emrys and the Once and Future King, united together to build Albion and bring about a golden age where the old and new religions are in harmony."
"Emrys?"
"It's what the druids call me."
He protects Camelot; he protects you.
"You! You're Emrys?"
Merlin nods, looking sheepish. "You're not the only one with expectations on their shoulders."
He defends Camelot, is the only sorcerer Morgana fears, and the most powerful magic user to walk the earth.
Arthur pales and has to sit down, resting the base of his skull in his hands. He does not say anything for a while.
Merlin not only has magic, but is hugely powerful and destined to help him rule. He looks at the forlorn body in the bed and tries to reconcile the information. Now that he thinks about it, he can. Merlin is strong-willed and wise, an intricate puzzle that he may finally have solved.
"What would you have me do?"
"Believe."
"It's not enough."
"It's a start."
The king dips his chin in agreement.
"As it stands you've broken the law, Merlin."
"I did that as soon as I was born."
"You're certain you can't stop using it?"
He shakes his head. "There are devices that can prevent me using it but -."
"Would that hurt you?"
"Yes."
"If I banished you?"
"I wouldn't go."
"You would stay close by."
"Yes."
"Even if you were shot at on sight?"
"You would never see me."
Arthur shakes his head. "You leave me no choice."
"There is always a choice, Arthur."
"Not this time."
Merlin looks into his eyes, face grim, there are beads of sweat on his forehead and his chest is heaving.
"I will have to lift the ban on magic."
A cup explodes and Merlin gapes like a fish, no sound but that of his lips slapping together.
Arthur watches his friend and feels proud for the first time in a long time, then he sees the servant's face fall.
"What is it? I thought this is what you wanted."
"It is!" He chokes, "but you can't."
"Merlin, I'm the king and I can do what I damn well like."
"I mean not right away, there will be riots - the people aren't ready. You can't turn over a belief system that has been established for years."
"I did."
"Change takes time, Arthur, if it is to be truly effective and enduring. I need to be strong. If you go ahead now there will be upheaval; things will be very difficult. I won't be any use like this." He gestures at his limbs.
It's true. Arthur made the statement because it was the right thing to do but there is no denying it would be a great undertaking that would cause instability within the kingdom and make Camelot vulnerable.
"Then what do I do?"
"What you do best – lead the people, inspire them. Make changes slowly."
"Will you help me?"
"Always - but, Arthur, it needs to be a secret until I'm stronger. Please, keep it between us."
"Guinevere? The knights?"
"I need time, Arthur - I think you do too."
"No one else knows?"
"Only Gaius and my mother."
Arthur feels yet another twinge of guilt but brushes it aside and nods. "On your terms then, when you're ready?"
Merlin dips his chin.
"So you're still going to be my servant."
"Yes."
"Right. I'd better go and tell George not to get too comfortable - he threw your favourite duster away last week."
The look of outrage on Merlin's face is too much and Arthur throws his head back and laughs, breaking the tension. His friend joins him but Merlin is tired and has started to yawn, eyelids heavy.
Arthur turns to leave, then pauses. "Oh, I meant to give you this… it's a week late but -"
He fishes in his pocket and pulls out a small parcel of brown paper. It's worn white at the edges. He tosses it at the bed.
"Here."
Merlin carefully unfolds the paper, inside is a square of fine blue material with a little gold dragon embroidered in the corner.
"I used your old one to hold your leg together - it's just a replacement."
Merlin fumbles with the fabric, overcome with emotion. He attempts to put it on but can't manage.
"Give it here." Arthur snatches the neckerchief and secures it around Merlin's neck. As the king reaches round the servant, long arms snake out and embrace him in a hug.
"Thank you."
The king does not withdraw; he enjoys the contact then slaps his friend on the shoulder a couple of times and nods, not trusting himself to speak.
Merlin composes himself, he smiles up at Arthur. "You wrecked my only good pair of trousers too -"
"Merlin!"
He's too slow to respond to Arthur's cuff and nearly falls off the bed. He's saved by the king and it's all too much. Merlin collapses into giggles followed by Arthur's deep guffaws.
Gaius stands at the doorway, concealed from view. Prophecies and omens; only possible futures and outcomes and yet the old man cannot help but feel that they have started on the path towards Albion. He's very proud of the two men, of all they have become and all they will achieve.
What do you think? I know it was quite lengthy but I did not want to split it.
Epilogue to follow, including two illustrations and a fight scene - stay tuned!