Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. If I did, there probably would have been a time-travel episode of some sort—like, a spell gone wrong or whatever, because, like, I'm really obsessed with BBC's Robin Hood right now, and I just would have made that cross-over happen in-canon come hell or high water. So. Obviously, I do not own Merlin.

Merlin's Secret

Chapter 10:
Deep In The Forest

It was hard to go about his life as though everything were totally normal—given the week that Arthur had had, he thought it would be almost impossible to go out on patrol with Merlin, with the knights, and act as though everything was the same as it had always been.

But then they were on the horses, they were going through the forest, messing around, making small talk and jokes, and somehow it was easy to forget that Merlin had magic, that Morgana knew, that Lancelot had known before him—it was easy to fall back into the way things were, the way they had always been before everything else had happened. It was so easy to forget for a while.

But then there were the bandits, and suddenly it wasn't so easy.

It was a normal enough occurrence: they were riding through, all good-natured and fine-humored, him, Merlin, Lancelot, Leon, Gwaine, and Elyan—Percival had suffered an injury during morning training and had been unable to ride out with them due to Gaius' orders that he spend the day resting instead of fighting and training—riding, all on the look-out for what none of them suspected would happen. And the next thing they knew, bandits were attacking them, having jumped out from behind some trees. They dismounted—all of them, Merlin included—and drew their swords, Merlin hanging back as the knights took them on, defending themselves, protecting Merlin.

Immediately, Arthur's mind went to Merlin, to keeping him safe, because he didn't have a sword, and, even if he had, he wasn't the most skilled person in the world with one, even if he did do a damn fine job of it when he needed to. He glanced back when he heard the sound of someone charging at someone else and felt a gut-wrenching sort of feeling when he remembered that Merlin was in that direction.

When his eyes fell on Merlin, however, his eyes were golden, and the man who had been charging at him was knocked out on the ground. He caught Arthur's eyes just as his own returned to their blue hue, and shrugged sheepishly, threw a glance to just beyond Arthur's shoulder where a man was coming at Arthur. Before Arthur could react, Merlin's eyes were gold once again and the man grunted, falling to the ground just as Arthur whipped his head back around.

What the hell.

Why would he—in front of so many people? The knights, though, all seemed too preoccupied to notice, seemed too caught up in the fight to spare Merlin even half a glance. No wonder he had gotten away with it unnoticed for so many years. They were all so… oblivious when fighting. Were they always like that? Was Arthur always like that?

He couldn't spare it a second thought right now, though; he needed to focus on the bandits, on keeping everyone safe. He turned back around just in time to slash at a man on his left. With a moment to catch his breath, he spared looks to his men, all standing firmly, swords in their hands, faces still contorted into that of a man in battle, trying to catch their own breaths. The forest was silent then, the bandits all lying dead or injured at their feet.

Arthur tucked his sword back away, slowly let his eyes fall on the others, taking them in as the adrenaline faded from his system and he came down from the rush of the fight. They were all a bit nicked up, but, for the most part, it was nothing Merlin probably couldn't fix with the herbs in his medicine bag and a break from riding.

~!~!~!~!~

"All right, that should do it," Merlin grinned in satisfaction as he finished wrapping up a wound on Gwaine's forearm. "How does that feel? Not too tight?"

"No, that's perfect, Merlin. Thank you." Gwaine grinned back, letting his sleeve fall back down.

"You're welcome," He stood up, wound up the rest of the bandage and then stood with his hands on his hips, took in the state of Lancelot, Leon, Elyan, and Arthur for a moment, seeming to gauge if he had anything else to do.

"That's everyone, then. Arthur, are we heading back or making camp for the night?" He asked, snapping Arthur from his reprieve. He had been using the time that had been more focused on taking care of the others to think—he really had been doing a lot of that lately. Too much, Merlin would probably joke, but, well, Merlin didn't need to know about any of it—to... contemplate, to sort things out, sort of.

"Camp." He said without much thought. It couldn't be helped, the knights needed rest, and Arthur needed more time to think things over away from the castle, away from Morgana, away from his father. Everything he was doing lately went against everything he had grown up with, but...

Well, this was Merlin he was dealing with, he was willing to overlook a few certain details of his up-bringing for him.

Granted, there were still too many loose ends that needed tying up, but if he was away from the castle for a little while, that was just more time to try to get a handle on things, really. The knights being injured, needed to rest, was the perfect excuse to stay away for a night.

"Camp it is," Merlin sighed, throwing his medicine bag down to rest next to Arthur. "I'll go get some firewood." He said, not waiting for Arthur to give out orders for anyone to do anything.

The knights all grumbled non-committingly, nodded their thanks to him for taking on the task, and Arthur let his head snap up to follow Merlin's form as he disappeared through the trees, leaving him and the knights to themselves for a few moments.

In the wake of Merlin's exit, they remained silent for the most part, lost to their own thoughts and injuries, maybe going over the battle they'd just fought in their heads. Arthur, however, was lost to something else, something outside of the mechanical swing of his sword and sting of the wounds Merlin had dressed. He was lost, as he always seemed to be lately, to thoughts of Merlin.

Merlin, who had magic.

Merlin, who only wanted to assure Arthur that everything was going to be all right.

Merlin, who had shared his secret with Lancelot before Arthur.

Merlin, who lived in fear for his life every day.

Merlin, who…

Was Merlin.

But then, of course, there was also Morgana to worry about, to have to deal with. Arthur was sure, positive, that Lancelot wouldn't say anything to anyone—and Merlin seemed pretty convinced of that as well—but Morgana? Well, he loved her like a sister, yes, but she was finicky, and the second she told him she knew, he had felt an odd sort of… feeling wash over him, a foreboding sense that nothing was going to end well.

"Merlin's been gone a bit long to just be collecting firewood, someone should go see what's holding him up," Leon said some moments later, snapping Arthur from his rather unpleasant thoughts.

"I'll go." Gwaine shrugged, making to stand up before anyone else could say anything.

"That's not necessary, Gwaine," Arthur said, standing up himself. "I'll go."

"You're sure, princess? You might have to actually do some work, after all, if he needs help. Maybe it's better if I—"

"I know how to carry firewood, Gwaine." Arthur snapped, apologetic until he remembered all that Gwaine had done in the last few days. And then he wasn't.

The rest of the knights exchanged looks, curious, wondering, as Gwaine held up his hands in surrender and sat back down. Arthur shot him a look as he turned around, trailing off through the same trees Merlin had gone through not too long ago.

"Wonder what that's all about." Elyan murmured.

"Probably just wants some alone time with Merlin, if you know what I mean." Gwaine laughed.

"Arthur was pretty pissed the other night—maybe he just wants to talk about that." Leon suggested.

"You guys were all just as drunk as he was," Lancelot interjected on his behalf.

Gwaine said something else then, but Arthur was too far away to hear anymore and focused, instead, on tracing Merlin's path through the trees. Merlin was right, they didn't need to worry about Lancelot telling anyone. But Gwaine? If Gwaine ever found out, they would probably be screwed. He was a good friend, yes, but could he keep a secret?

A movement just behind some trees had Arthur stiffening, alert and on edge as he reached for his sword until Merlin's face popped out from behind the trees, grinning slightly as he eyed Arthur's hand on his sword.

"Come to have my head after all?" He asked cheekily as Arthur let out a breath and let his hand fall from his sword.

"I came to look for you—you're taking so long you might as well be chopping down the trees to get the wood." He rolled his eyes, climbed over a few stray roots until he came to stand near Merlin, hands coming to fall on his hips as he took in the admittedly small pile of firewood stacked in his arms.

"Sorry, not much firewood around here, you know," Merlin called attention to the pile in his arms and shrugged, shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"Right, uhm, that's not actually all I came out here for…" Arthur added, one of his hands coming to rub the back of his neck nervously.

He had been thinking about this, about everything. He would rather have not put so much thought into all this, but, it was something that did require a lot of thought and oh God, he was even rambling in his mind now—everything about this situation was just so fucked it and confusing and ugh. And Morgana—Morgana was not making things any easier with her, "Oh, maybe we should tell Uther," and "I can't believe he wouldn't tell us—his friends," and promising not to say a word to anyone, because he was Merlin, after all, and they owed him that much at least, but then smirking as she left the room.

If it came down to it, he wondered who he could trust more: Merlin or Morgana?

"Come to yell at me some more, then?" Merlin asked, his tone probably meant to be teasing, though Arthur could catch, just under the edges, the prickle of truth, the slight fear and worry there that yes, that was exactly what he had come out there for.

"No, Merlin, I've not come to yell—not this close to the knights, anyway," He added playfully, trying to ease the tension.

"What, then?"

"I just wanted to talk to you… About something."

"About… me?" Merlin asked, eyebrows shooting up suggestively.

"Yes." Arthur nodded.

"Is this really the place, Arthur? I mean, the knights—"

"They're not going to—we'd hear them. Can we just—for two minutes, Merlin?"

Merlin took his bottom lip in and thought for a moment before nodding. He let the pile of firewood fall from his arms and sat down on one of the roots near their feet, gave Arthur a look until he sat down right next to him, silence falling over the pair as the sounds of the forest played out around them.

Right.

This was where Arthur was supposed to tell Merlin about Morgana knowing, about the conversation he'd had with her after he'd left Arthur's room. This was the part where he tried to fix things between them, where he cleared things up and left no more secrets between them. This was the part where—

"The thing about Lancelot," Merlin began hurriedly, looking down at his boots and messing at a spot of mud on them. "I didn't tell him, he just... Do you remember back when he first came to Camelot? Before when he was a knight the first time? With the griffin and you thought he killed it and wanted him to be granted his knighthood anyway even though your father—? Well, I actually killed it, there was a spell and—Lancelot heard me do it, he saw me use my magic and... He promised not to tell anyone, and then he left because he wouldn't take credit for something he didn't do. And he... he's known, all this time, and he's kept my secret for me all this time. That's why I've always been closer to him than the other knights—well, not counting Gwaine—but I swear Gwaine doesn't know! I just... I thought you should know." Merlin looked back up at him, face sorry and sheepish as he awaited Arthur's reaction.

Arthur made a small sort of sound that was completely un-knightly, and that he would deny ever making if questioned, as he smiled wonderingly at his friend.

"I... Hang on, you killed that griffin?"

"Yeah." Merlin nodded enthusiastically.

"And you've never thought to—nevermind, we can talk about that la—really? The griffin? What else have you—"

"Oh, plenty others. You can't begin to understand how many times I've had to save your royal backside without you knowing." Merlin laughed, his smile bright and the sound echoing off the trees marvelously with Arthur's.

He could have allowed the topic of conversation to go off like that, to find out how many times Merlin might have done exactly as he'd done that very afternoon for Arthur without him finding out, but... He did have other things he wanted to talk about. He wanted so badly for Merlin to get the recognition he deserved, he wanted to know everything that Merlin had done for him so he could thank him properly...

But there were other things that needed attending to.

"I'm not mad about that anymore, Merlin." He said. "I mean, I am, but it's not your fault that Lancelot found out like that. I just... I still wish you would have told me."

"I know. So do I, and, Arthur," Merlin turned to him. "I would have, but I didn't know..."

"How I would react." Arthur finished for him.

"Right." He nodded. "But now that I do—if I could go back in time, if I could do it over, I would have told you ages ago. Now that I know that you wouldn't—that you would keep my secret, I... I regret not telling you, Arthur. I do." Merlin told him, his blue eyes looking so sincere and deep and full of the truth and regret that Arthur was ready to forgive him, just like that. So he did. But.

"Merlin... You had to know," Arthur shook his head slightly, biting his lip as he avoided glancing down at Merlin's. "That I would do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I would never let my father—I would never let anyone—do anything to you."

"Arthur..."

"Never, Merlin. Never." Arthur repeated, his own eyes hard with his resolution as he felt his resolve breaking, felt everything he'd been keeping in for the past few days in bubbling to the surface, breaking free from his lips before he could think to halt them. "When I thought that the entire castle was going to find out about your magic, I was so worried that my father was going to have you put to death—I've never been that terrified and worried in my life, Merlin! And I just... I would have done anything to keep you from that fate—I still would. I... would do anything for you, Merlin.

"I know I've been out of sorts with you lately, pushing you away, locking you out, and I know I already apologized for that, but I needed time to think, I needed to understand things, I needed to know that I was doing the right thing. I needed to know how I felt about everything. And you know how hard things like feelings are for me." He made a face as Merlin clearly held in a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at the statement that Arthur had made simply for that fact, as Arthur caught his breath, calming slightly as he let it all out.

"How do you feel, then? Now that you've had time to sort it all out?" Merlin asked curiously.

Arthur gave him a tired smile. "I didn't say I'd had it all figured out just yet."

"What have you figured out, then?"

Arthur took in a breath, let it out slowly. "That I forgive you. That I wish you would have told me sooner. That you deserve more credit than I give you. That maybe there's more going on than I understand, than you've been able to tell me before now. As soon as I figure anything else out..."

"You'll let me know?"

"Thought I'd tell Lancelot, actually, and let you figure it out on your own." He nudged Merlin playfully, teasing now.

"Thought you'd forgiven me."

"Doesn't mean I'm not still upset."

"You are such a girl's petticoat." Merlin rolled his eyes.

"That's my insult, you dollophead."

"That's my insult, you clotpole."

Arthur chuckled, still in a wonder, even after all this time, that Merlin would talk to him like that. He supposed, in the moment between heavy topics and secrets, that that was all just part of his charm.

Nothing else was said, however, as Lancelot, of all people, came through the trees then, eyes searching until they rested upon the pair, curious and wondering as he took them in. His eyebrows shot up but he said nothing on the subject of them sitting too close, smiling too hard, a sort of laughter and something else entirely hanging in the air between them.

"The others are getting cold and hungry—you know how they get when they're hungry." He said simply. "Are you two ready to head back to camp yet? I don't think I can keep them placated for too much longer."

"You've been keeping them from coming out here?" Arthur asked as he stood up and picked up the pile of firewood Merlin had let fall to the ground minutes before.

"Well, Gwaine didn't exactly choose to stay put after you'd been out here for so long." Lancelot said, throwing a knowing look to Merlin.

Arthur looked between them, obviously there was a meaning of some sort in what was being said, obviously there was something else going on that Arthur didn't know about, but enough secrets had been revealed for today, so he let it drop and turned about, walking past Lancelot and putting some distance between them as he and Merlin whispered amongst themselves about something or another, forgetting, for the moment, that he had meant to tell Merlin about his conversation with Morgana. It would just have to wait—not much harm in that, after all.

~!~!~!~!~

"What was that all about?" Lancelot whispered to Merlin as Arthur walked ahead of them, carrying the firewood Merlin was meant to be carrying.

"Arthur was being... I don't know, nice?" Merlin whispered back, somewhat confused in his tone.

Lancelot looked at Arthur's back, at the stubborn set of his shoulders as he picked up his pace, almost running back through the trees as though he could just tell that Lancelot and Merlin needed a moment.

"Understanding, I mean," Merlin shrugged, his eyes hooded as he watched Arthur as well. Lancelot recognized that look, of course, but he couldn't push that subject—not here, not now. "Said he's forgiven me for... Not telling him all these years." He shrugged again.

"And what about you?" He asked without pause, wondering if Merlin saw the situation the same as he might have had it been anyone but Arthur involved.

"What about me?"

"Have you forgiven him? For telling me your secret?"

"You already knew." Merlin said, slowing his pace as they neared the camp.

"But Arthur didn't know that. As far as he knew, he had just given away your biggest secret and cost you your life. If I hadn't known, if I had been anyone else, you wouldn't be here right now, Merlin. Have you forgiven him for being so reckless with your secret?"

"You're asking if I've forgiven him for gambling with my life?" Merlin stopped short in his tracks, eyes trained on the group of trees that hid their camp, that hid their friends, from view.

Lancelot shifted, pausing as well. "Yes. You don't need Arthur's forgiveness, Merlin—you were doing what you thought would save your own life, there isn't any shame in that."

"But there is shame in telling a secret?"

"In telling a secret that could cost your friend their life." He corrected. He didn't want to broach such a subject, didn't want to upset Merlin with such fine details and thoughts when he had looked so happy just moments before, but... It was something that he needed to think about, for himself, for Arthur.

Merlin let out a sigh, hands on his hips as he pursed his lips. "If Gwen..." he began slowly, voice hushed and hurried. "Told me something about you that she didn't know I knew but I did, would you have to search within yourself to forgive her?"

Lancelot didn't even need to think about it—of course he wouldn't! But then, he was completely and totally...

Right, of course that was what this was about. He had recognized that look on Merlin's face just a moment ago—the sort of look that Lancelot often had on his own face when he looked at or thought about Gwen. He shouldn't have been surprised that it all came back to that, to...

"I suppose not." He nodded slowly after a moment. Then, after a beat, asked, "Did Arthur mention what he said to me that night? Other than the bit about your secret, I mean?"

Merlin gave him a look, confused and wondering. "No. What else—"

"Merlin! Lancelot!" Arthur's voice cut through the rest of the sentence, calling them from the camp not a few feet away.

"Nevermind, we can... talk about it later?" Lancelot suggested. Merlin nodded and turned, walking towards the camp with a slight roll of his eyes at Arthur's interruption.

Lancelot watched him for a moment until he disappeared behind the trees, heard his voice join the others before he finished the walk back to camp himself. At the very least, it would be a peaceful night that night, with Merlin and Arthur talking once again. He suspected Gwaine might be in a bit of a mood, but if Merlin goaded him enough, he too would join in the laughs and stories that were being told. In time, Merlin would simply have to have a chat with the knight who sought more than friendship from him—if Merlin could see it without it being pointed out to him, that was—but for that night alone they could all be well and happy for a moment.

Things did not stay calm in Camelot for too long at a time, after all, as Lancelot knew all too well. Best to enjoy it while they could.

Oooh, look at Arthur being all in touch with his feelings and shit. So precious.

Don't forget to vote in the "Death poll" on my profile, because, you know, voting is fun and shit.

Your thoughts are always appreciated.

Always,
Hisa-Ai.