Chapter 10: The King in Camelot

When we had withdrawn into one of the rooms in the castle, there was silence for a long moment. Mother and Father were standing hand in hand, Mother leaning up against Father's side and both of them looking perfectly content to stay just where they were, but by his face Uncle Merlin shared my complete lack of knowledge of what to say just then.

For some reason I suddenly remembered talking with Uncle Merlin about Excalibur, that night a few months ago when we grieved on the shores of Avalon, and I blurted out, "Do you have Excalibur with you, Father?"

Merlin looked up curiously too. Father smiled and let go of Mother to put his hand on his swordhilt. "Freya sent it back with me," he said. "She told me it belonged with me, and I might need it." He drew it swiftly and held it up before him.

I drew closer, studying the ornate sword with interest; I'd never before seen a sword forged in a dragon's breath. Father held it out for me to take. "It's a beautiful sword," I said softly, taking it in my hands and studying the runes carved into it.

"Leon has trained you to be a good swordsman yourself," Father commented. "Do you have your sword around?"

"It's in my room," I said, handing Excalibur back. "Do you want me to get it?"

Father, I thought, looked almost shy. "I'd like to see what you've learned myself," he told me.

"I'll get it right away!" I exclaimed, smiling broadly; it had been one of my childhood fantasies for my father to spar with me like my uncles did. I hurried from the room; somewhat to my surprise, Uncle Merlin followed me.

"I'll just give the two of them a moment," he explained when I glanced at him inquisitively. "Go get your sword, Dragon."

I grinned widely at him and took off running up the corridors, feeling very jumbled and overjoyed all at once. Father had come back, and he did love me, he was proud of me. For the first time in my life, my family could be complete. It was almost too much to take in.

I fetched the sword and, running back, had reached the end of the hallway leading back to the room where the others were when I realized that Father was just emerging from the room to speak to Uncle Merlin, standing against the wall on the far side of the hallway. Not wanting to interrupt, I skidded to a stop and stood where I thought I was out of sight – and I'm afraid I eavesdropped.

"Merlin," Father began, stressing the first syllable a bit.

Uncle Merlin bent his head and turned toward Father. "I'm sorry, sire," he said suddenly, and then words were flowing from him in a torrent, as though he had waited years to say it all. "For not being able to keep you from dying, for failing to find a way to save you, for all the lies and everything I never told you, for changing –"

He broke off, out of breath and near tears. Father quickly put his hand on his shoulder.

"Stop blaming yourself, Merlin," he said gently. "You weren't the only one at fault. I've had years to come to terms with it all, and I know quite well now why you would have been too afraid to ever tell me. I'm sorry for everything I said against magic, for making it so that you couldn't trust me, for taking you for granted, for what happened with Freya."

He looked up then and saw me at the end of the hallway; squeezing Uncle Merlin's shoulder, he stepped back. "You have your sword, Amhar?" he called to me.

"I brought it," I said shyly, feeling rather as if I'd interrupted something important.

Father, though, smiled at me. "Come, show me what you've learned!" he said brightly, stepping back into the room.

I came forward to follow, shooting Uncle Merlin an apologetic look. The smile he gave me back was a genuine one, though, so I stopped worrying about it.

Father had drawn Excalibur again when I came into the room, and we sparred back and forth for several minutes. Father, I could tell, was holding back a bit, but I gave my all to the mock fight, and when we drew apart for breath, Father beamed at me.

"You've been trained well," he told me proudly. "Well done, son."

I couldn't have hid my smile at those words if I'd tried. At that moment, however, someone knocked at the door, and at Father's, "Come in!" Uncle Leon stepped into the room.

"Leon!" Father exclaimed, and stepped forward to clasp forearms with him; he pulled Leon close, and they clapped each other on the back. "Thank you for everything you have done for Camelot," Father said sincerely.

Uncle Leon smiled. "I was pleased to do it, sire," he said sincerely. "And I'm sorry to interrupt, but there are many who have realized their king is back and would like to see you."

Father sighed and nodded. "I'll come," he said, and turned to us. "Gwen, Amhar, we must dine together tonight."

"Of course," Mother said, beaming. Father smiled back at her before he left the room.

I followed him long enough to see him meet both Percival and Gaius, who welcomed him warmly, before I slipped off to put my sword back in my room.

Dinner that night in Mother's parlor was strange but delightful. It was the first time I'd ever eaten with both my parents, and we filled Father in on the significant events of my lifetime; he'd seen most of them from Avalon by Freya's scrying, of course, but we talked them over together now.

Mother told Father of how magic had been carefully reintroduced to Camelot, the ban lifted piece by piece to avoid panic, and of how all our allies had followed suit, so that it was now finally safe to be a sorcerer again. There was still prejudice among some people that would probably linger for some time, but in our citadel and town we had nearly moved past that by now. Father was warmly approving of everything Mother had done to help magic be accepted, and I realized with relief that Uncle Merlin's fears that Father wouldn't accept the return of magic were unfounded.

I told Father about riding Aithusa when he asked me what I liked to do, and told him he would have to fly with me someday.

"It's the most wonderful thing there is!" I assured him, when he looked both nervous and skeptical. "You can see the world, and you're up in the sky, weightless and free. I finally got Uncle Merlin to let us go high enough to touch a cloud the last time we flew! And flying will make Uncle Merlin smile, too – you have to let him take you the next time Aithusa comes in."

"How do you hang on?" Father asked. "From what I remember of seeing a dragon fly, it looked like it would be a very bumpy ride."

"Oh, you have to hang on tight," I assured him. "That's half the fun – when you lift off Aithusa's back for a moment at the peak of her flap. But Uncle Merlin wouldn't let you fall, and neither would Aithusa. Ask Lancelot or Anna – they agree with me that flying is pretty much the best thing in the world."

Father was smiling a bit at my enthusiasm. "Have you gone flying, Gwen?" he asked Mother.

"Once," she said firmly, "and only once. I realized that it was probably safer than I thought, but that I'd rather keep my feet on the ground. But you should go sometime, just for the experience."

"You have to come at least once," I begged, thinking how much fun it would be to have my father in the sky with me.

"Alright," he capitulated. "When the dragon shows up and we have time, I'll go on one flight."

It was my turn to beam at my father.

The next morning, after I had woken up and gotten dressed, I headed directly toward Mother's small parlor where she and I always had breakfast together, no matter how busy we were. Only when I was halfway there did I begin to wonder if we'd have breakfast as usual or not; Father and Mother had gone off hand in hand last night after hugging me goodnight (I didn't think I'd ever get tired of the security of Father's hugs, and it was a lot more comfortable to be hugged when he was wearing a normal tunic instead of chainmail). Instead of heading to Mother's chambers, they had been going toward Father's old chambers, which had lain unoccupied since before my birth. I wondered rather nervously if they would dine with just each other this morning or if they would come to the parlor and eat with me.

To my relief, when I reached the parlor, they were both there, kissing each other in the middle of the room. They broke off when I came in.

"Morning, Amhar," Mother said, her smile brighter than usual today, coming around toward the table, which was already laden with food.

"Morning, Mother," I answered.

"Good morning, Amhar," Father said, and that was not in the usual routine. Hearing his voice still made me smile as I echoed his greeting.

"Merlin should be here any moment," Father commented. "I asked him to come up and eat with us."

"That's good," I said at once, not really able, even in my mind, to articulate why I still needed him close when I had Father here but knowing it was true all the same.

"We need to have a meeting of the Round Table today," Father said, sitting down.

"The original group, or the one with all the advisors?" Mother asked.

"Both, probably," Father admitted. "And I need to make a speech to the people this afternoon, to explain my being back and that I'll take up the kingship now, and so on. I'll need Merlin to write that for me."

"You mean it was Merlin who always wrote all your speeches?" Mother asked with a rather mischievous smile. "No wonder they sounded so nice."

"Are you saying I'm not eloquent?" Father asked her.

"It depends on the subject," Mother replied, laughing and giving him a loving glance.

Seeing my parents kiss wasn't all that awkward for me, but I was beginning to wonder if I would be uncomfortable with their flirting. Luckily at that moment, Uncle Merlin arrived and rescued me.

When we had finished breakfast, Father and Uncle Merlin sat down to write the speech, or rather Uncle Merlin wrote it and Father divided his attention between him and Mother, who was dealing with some paperwork from arrests the patrols had made recently of men suspected to be Saxon spies. I was working on an assignment my tutor had given me two weeks ago, to analyze the account of a failed treaty effort between Camelot and Mercia some fifty years ago at least, and the war that had followed. I was to work out what the parties could have done differently during the treaty so that it didn't lead to war, and how the tactics Camelot had used in the war could have been improved so that they didn't lose the first few major battles. I had had next to no concentration for this project recently, what with all the more exciting events going on in Camelot, and I was barely paying attention to it now, listening to the way Father and Mother talked about her paperwork, their tones making their ordinary words sound more like sweet nothings than anything, and Father and Uncle Merlin's occasional conversations about the speech. They were planning to say that it hadn't been Father's time to leave permanently, and that the same wonderful magic that had brought the already accepted knights back had brought the King back too.

"I think you'll want to mention you're the Once and Future King," Merlin remarked presently, scribbling rapidly on his parchment. "The druids will know what you mean and realize that this is your future. They might manage to calm down the people who will be skeptical of a dead man taking the kingship back up."

"The druids are trusted enough for that?" Father asked, a thoughtful look on his face. Uncle Merlin was reading what he'd written, so he didn't see the look, but he did tense as he shrugged.

"They're strange enough that some of them have acquired quite the reputation for wisdom," he remarked dryly.

"Does magic always give its users an innate, strange wisdom?" Father asked, looking right at Uncle Merlin. This time he looked up, a pleased smile hovering around his lips.

"I don't really think so," he said lightly. "Only those of us who are special have that."

"Very special indeed," Father retorted, but somehow I didn't think it was as mocking as he meant it to sound. Uncle Merlin just beamed at him and turned back to the parchment; I thought I had seen Uncle Merlin's real smile more times this morning than any other morning I ever remembered, and it made me feel oddly safe despite the danger.

Mother left presently to deliver her paperwork to Uncle Leon, and I left the table to curl up in a more comfortable chair and continue trying to work; I didn't want to be anywhere else at the moment.

Presently Uncle Merlin straightened his parchment. "I think you should have an acceptable speech now, and without my staying up all night to write it," he commented, smiling a bit.

Father took the speech and thanked Uncle Merlin for it, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to leave. After a few minutes, quite out of the blue, Father said, "My wife and I suspect we know why my chambers were so clean when we retired to them last night."

Uncle Merlin's smile was small and stilted, and I suddenly remembered all the years he had cleaned Father's rooms on the anniversary of his death. "I told you once," he said softly, "that I am happy to be your servant till the day I die."

"I imagine there was a reason you said that beyond what I could see," Father commented.

He didn't sound at all irritated, but Uncle Merlin's eyes were suddenly dark with pain, and he buried his face in his hands.

"I swear to you, Arthur," he said quietly through them, "I didn't want to hide everything I did from you. But at first I was afraid for my life, and then I didn't want to come between you and your father, and in the end there was such a tangled web of lies between us that I didn't dare try to cut through it. I didn't want you to think me a traitor."

"And in the process you became utterly alone, and it nearly broke you," Father said gently, his voice sounding understanding. "Don't think I didn't notice that even before Camlann your smiles were hardly real anymore." He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "Why did you sound like you were saying goodbye when you told me about always being my servant, anyway?"

Uncle Merlin lifted his head from his hands but didn't look at Father. "You were dying from the venom of the Questing Beast," he said simply, blankly. "I was saying goodbye. I fully intended to exchange my life for yours."

Father stared at him, looking horrified. "Merlin," he said at last, "someday I swear I will break you of saying your life is less than mine and trying to throw it away for me."

Uncle Merlin smiled just a bit, a rather bittersweet smile. "It's my destiny to keep you safe, Arthur," he said softly.

"And there was nothing more you could have done to fulfill it at Camlann," Father said firmly. "You've been living in the shadow of that all these years – I don't blame you, we all have. But I'm back now. You need to step out and live in the light."

Uncle Merlin didn't say anything, and after a moment Father went on. "We both made mistakes when it came to your magic years ago," he said. "But we both know about it now; I've come to terms with it, and I'm very glad you have it. You needn't look so astonished," he said as Merlin suddenly met his eyes, looking shocked. "I've watched from the lake as you've use it to defend my kingdom when I couldn't even be there, and I heard stories from those I was with in Avalon and from watching you tell Amhar stories about how you used it to protect me and Camelot even when you risked your life every time you dared use it."

"So you know all my secrets now?" Merlin asked, looking torn between relieved not to have to tell them and sorrowful that he had never had the chance.

"Not all," Father said. "And I'd rather hear the stories direct from you, when I can ask the questions I wanted to. But apart from us finding time for storytelling, the past is the past, Merlin. Can we move forward with your magic being a fact?"

Uncle Merlin's eyes were shining with tears. "I've never wanted anything else," he whispered.

"Good," Father said briskly. "And as part of that, let me make it clear that you are not to clean my chambers again."

Merlin frowned. "What do you want me to do, then?" he asked uncertainly. "You said often enough that I had no talent for anything else – and that I was a horrible servant anyway."

"I was too harsh," Father admitted freely, which made Uncle Merlin stare at him blankly. "I had no idea I'd spend years on Avalon's borders with far too much time to look back on what I did wrong and wish I could have learned to say what I truly meant when I still lived."

"You're not the only one who's thought of all they did wrong," Merlin murmured, mostly to himself.

"I know," Father said. "So leaving the past behind, I don't want you to serve me as a servant any longer – I can hire someone else to do that. I want you to be my advisor, the sorcerer at my side. I don't want you to go back to living in the shadows."

I don't think Uncle Merlin could say anything at that moment, for he stared at Father with tears in his eyes, then gave a jerky nod and left the room. But I could tell they were the happiest tears of his life.

Later that morning, we gathered for a meeting of the Original Round Table, which I assumed would mostly focus on how we were going to defeat the Saxons now that we had Father here. Lancelot, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Gwaine all showed up in shining armor and their long red cloaks; Gaius came from his chambers, and as I joined them and went to stand at my place, I realized there was one more chair at the table than I was used to their being at meetings like this. For Father, of course.

Mother came in and stood at her place beside me; then Father and Uncle Merlin followed her. Father strode forward confidently to stand at the table by Mother's side, as if he had taken his place here a thousand times before, and I could see him suddenly as the great king Uncle Merlin always described him as. To my surprise, Merlin hung back, looking uncertain whether he had a place at the table he had always been a vital part of since I was a tiny child, but Father waved him toward the empty seat on his left.

When we had all taken our places, Father rose and stood straight, the golden crown he was wearing shining in the light streaming through the room.

"My first act as the returned King of Camelot," he said strongly, "is to confirm the Queen's proclamation that magic and those who use it are legal throughout our lands."

It was not the topic that we had expected him to speak about, but his saying this felt right, as though he could not have said anything else. Smiles broke out on all the knights' faces; Gaius looked suddenly content and peaceful, as though something he had longed for all his life had come to pass at last. Uncle Merlin simply stared at Father, his eyes wide and filled with hope.

"My second act," Father went on, "is to confirm my friend Merlin in his rightful role as Court Sorcerer and First Advisor of Camelot. After everything he has done for the kingdom, selflessly and unthanked, he more than deserves this role."

There was a brief silence, in which Uncle Merlin's eyes filled with tears; then Uncle Gwaine leapt to his feet and began clapping as hard as he could. The rest of the knights quickly followed suit.

"Good for you, Merlin!" Lancelot said warmly, clapping him on the back. All the knights congratulated Uncle Merlin; Gaius drew him into a hug and said something about how proud he was of him. I had been too young to remember the first time Mother made Uncle Merlin Court Sorcerer, but I was quite certain that this outpouring of laughter, smiles, and thanks hadn't quite been what happened then. Now Uncle Merlin was surrounded by his friends, who were joyous for his confirmation of his magical role.

He was smiling his bright, broad smile through his tears by the time Father stepped up to him. "Thank you, Arthur," he said softly.

Father clasped forearms with him. "No, Merlin," he said steadily. "Thank you."

A/N: Dealing with the Saxon threat will come up next chapter, never fear! But I thought I needed to take some time here to begin putting Gwen, Merlin, and Amhar's fears about Arthur's return safely to rest.

Next chapter on Thursday - "Of the High King."