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Chapter 11 Waking up is so very hard to do

Day 16

He tried to force his eyelids open, but they wouldn't budge. It was as if stones had been placed on them. The other senses were not quite so impaired; he could detect familiar sounds, aromas, and could feel his dry throat and the excess heat from his skin. He was aware of movement around him but was unable interact, could not will his muscles to work.

Locked in a body that would not respond, he had no concept of the passage of time. The only thing he was sure of was his magic. It was finally free to pulse and swirl, no longer contained. Unfortunately, access to his gift did not bring the comfort it should have; thinking about it made his gut twist - the pain sharp and visceral.

Merlin did not want to wake up. He was safer where he was; he did not have to answer to anyone or face his king - but he couldn't hide forever.

He'd listened to snippets of conversation and the words he'd heard cut, causing a wound that refused to heal. There was no escape - he could not pretend they had not been said.

"Do what you can, Gaius; I need to question him. Don't go to any trouble; if he dies, sobeit."

"I fear it may be too late, Sire; he is beyond my help – it is up to the gods."

It was the cold indifference that stung. He'd always known if Arthur discovered his secret the betrayal would hurt and anger would undoubtedly follow. However, the reality of the reaction was difficult to bear.

As the years passed, he'd become convinced that Arthur would come around. Why choose the pain of the cuff over a confession if you trusted him? Is this really such a surprise? His inner voice mocked.

The Once and Future King was destined to rule with Emrys - that's what he'd been told - so ultimately Arthur would have to accept magic, wouldn't he? Merlin wanted to believe but his faith in that dream had been shattered, the pointed shards cutting into his heart and causing as much damage as a physical blade would have done.

He could not deny the inevitable; he would have to speak to Arthur. Just like that, the weight disappeared from his eyes and he was free to open them - even if he did not want to.

The room was as it always had been, no indication of anything wrong. He sensed movement, heard the rustle of fabric, the clink of glass, and knew Gaius was nearby. He hoped the physician would stay; he did not want to be alone.

"Gaius?" He croaked.

Air was promptly displaced and warm, gnarled hands grasped his firmly. The old man did not say anything, just gripped tighter and smiled. His eyes were moist and he looked away briefly and then focused his gaze upon his ward once more, shaking his head as if he could not believe the sight before him.

"The knights, Gwaine?" Merlin began, attempting to sit up and struggling to look around. The action made him dizzy and Gaius halted any further movement with a firm palm to the chest.

"They are well; a few superficial breaks but mainly sprains, bruises, and cuts. It only took a couple of days for them to be on their feet - may take a while longer before they're up to training."

The warlock scrunched up his face in confusion. "Days?"

"You were gone for quite a while, my boy," Gaius's hand carded through his ward's damp hair. "We didn't know if you would make it back to the land of the living."

The physician sighed. "Arthur has been here daily, just waiting for you to wake up."

Arthur. He wasn't ready. A wave of panic hit, his heart rate soared as he fumbled trying to push the blanket back and climb out of bed. His limbs refused to cooperate, his head spun and black spots clouded his vision.

"Merlin!"

Gaius grabbed his ward's shoulders, easing him down. The physician lifted the end of the bed up, pushing a large tome underneath with his foot so the frame was tilted.

"Better?"

"U-huh." He waited a moment for his head to clear. "I need to get away, I -"

"Merlin, you're not going anywhere. Your gift may have helped with minor burns and lacerations, but you're anaemic and have sustained significant muscle atrophy. No amount of magic can resolve those conditions; your body will take time to heal."

The physician shook his head, exasperated. "It's taken years to put meat on your bones. I leave for less than three weeks and -"

The discussion was interrupted by the sound of the door banging and the king's voice.

"Gaius?"

"In here, Sire."

"Any change?"

The physician turned away from his patient, moving towards the entrance of Merlin's room and addressed the royal.

"Merlin's awake."

Footsteps could be heard moving swiftly.

"When?"

"Only moments ago, Your Highness."

"I need to speak to him."

The physician nodded. "Sire."

Merlin's throat constricted as his mentor moved away, he silently begged him to come back but the empty space was already replaced by a familiar and imposing silhouette.

Arthur walked into the room, back stiff and head held high.

The servant pressed himself into the bed, trying to disappear, but even his near-skeletal frame was clearly visible.

The king's gaze roamed over Merlin's form, his face impassive. When their eyes met he gave a small nod and sat down on a wooden stool.

Nothing was said.

Arthur sat with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands wrung together. He seemed tired and troubled. He looked up as if he were finally about to speak but when blue met blue the king's head dropped and he went back to studying his hands.

Merlin couldn't stand it; he'd rather endure the king's wrath than have him say nothing at all.

"You are well, Sire?" He ventured tentatively, voice strained with disuse.

The monarch's head lifted instantly; he assessed the younger man with wide eyes.

"Yes, quite well. Thank you." He replied hesitantly.

"Your shoulder?" The servant pushed.

Arthur gave the offending joint an involuntary roll. "All healed; no ill-effects," the monarch paused, "and you, Merlin?"

The familiar fallback phrase 'I'm fine' was on his lips but he couldn't form the words. Physically he certainly wasn't, although that had never stopped him before. He just couldn't say it. He didn't know where they stood anymore; friends, just servant and master, or enemies?

"I don't know – everything is kind of numb." He managed eventually.

"Gaius' potions will do that to a man." Arthur's mouth quirked.

Merlin remained silent.

The Royal let out a sigh. "I used to envy you, Merlin; did you know that? You were a free man, had none of the restraints or expectations of a royal... On the day I came of age you told me I was a servant to my people, and you were right." Arthur forced a small smile. "I have to put them first - their well being above my own - to always do whatever is best for the kingdom."

The dark-haired man did not know what to say. Where is this leading; is he going to confront me? Is this a game? Arthur Pendragon does not play games; he's honest and honourable - I should be too.

Merlin could not prevent the slight waver of his voice but he was determined to tell the truth. "You are a good king, Arthur. I know you'll always try and do the right thing."

The royal made his hands into fists, then released them, speaking in a rush.

"Gaius told me, Merlin. He explained everything when he got back." There, he'd finally said it.

All colour drained from the servant's face. "He did?"

"Yes. I know it was not your fault – that you had no choice about the magic." He watched the younger man's expression intently.

Merlin's chest heaved, he could not process what he'd heard. He was the one who should have told Arthur, now he felt vulnerable and exposed; they should be having this conversation face to face, not with him laid on his back and incapable of moving.

His heart pounded and he suddenly realised Arthur had started speaking again.

"Gaius told me that, when Kane hit you with that bolt, some of the magic from the stone was temporarily transferred and that you could use it in the same way as Kane." Arthur looked expectant.

Merlin could do nothing but stare back, totally dumbfounded.

Trust Gaius to come up with something like that - and for Arthur to accept it.

"Only you did not use it like him; did you, Merlin?"

The servant merely shook his head slowly in agreement, watching the royal's reaction closely.

He doesn't believe Gaius?

"That wall, the shield – that was you?"

There was no point in denying it, he gave a small nod. "Kane would have destroyed everything. He would have killed you, Arthur; he was beyond reason."

"You idiot! We should have been on the same side of the barrier!"

Merlin's eyes glazed over a bit and he shook his head, trying to sit up. "I had to stop him; I couldn't let him have the stone – to abuse all that power, to twist it and -"

Firm hands grasped his shoulders.

"Merlin, it's alright. It's over." He shook the younger man gently, looking directly into his eyes. "The stone's destroyed. All the magic has gone; you're back."

The king released his grip, guiding the invalid down onto the pillows.

"Kane can't hurt anyone now. I doubt he will be doing much of anything anymore."

"What do you mean?" Merlin's heart plummeted to new depths - he'd thought the noble had perished. If Kane's alive, he'll tell.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his face. "Gaius describes it as a catatonic state - he's alive but damaged. His body was never meant to have magic; it was too strong and did something to his brain… he's not responding to anything, probably never will." The king looked at the servant. "When you did not wake up... I thought maybe..."

Arthur looked away for a moment, not wanting to imagine the previously vibrant man before him as a lifeless shell. Instead, he did what he always had when dealing with something uncomfortable; he deflected.

"I guess there are some advantages to having an empty head to start with." Arthur turned towards Merlin, affectionately tapping his skull.

"Takes one to know one," the servant huffed, swiping the blond man away.

The tension had eased, making Merlin feel bold for the first time since the conversation began. "You said I'm very skilled at what I do."

"Merlin, a mad man was about to blast your head off - I had to say something." Arthur replied in mock indignation but soon sobered and added. "Geoffrey thought your command of Latin was excellent – not as polished as a king's, of course - but impressive."

"Impressive?" The servant smirked.

"For a peasant."

"I know my place, Sire," Merlin quipped, shoulders sagging.

"You do?" The royal raised an eyebrow.

"Always." His face grew serious. "Right at your side."

Arthur stilled, overcome by the loyalty of his servant. He nodded. "What you did... it was incredibly brave." The royal shook his head. "It was beyond stupid to goad the man like that; what were you thinking? You could have been killed!" The monarch's voice had gone up an octave and he was breathing hard. His expression softened. "Your actions saved the kingdom, Merlin…" he gave a little cough, "I'm proud of you."

The man in question shifted uncomfortably, studying the ceiling. "Thanks."

Normally Merlin would have teased Arthur mercilessly, but it did not feel right - Arthur still did not know who he was. The thought stung.

The king seemed to have no such trouble. "When you're feeling better, you can help clear up the mess you made."

"Gaius said that could take a while."

"Not to worry, there is plenty of time - it will be months before we can use the council chambers."

Merlin thought back to the devastated room that had been collapsing around him and suddenly wondered how they had not been crushed. How was the castle still standing?

There was an awkward silence but Merlin's head was still reeling so he didn't want to start another tricky conversation. For once things went his way and the king seemed as if he was getting ready to leave.

Arthur's buttocks parted company with the stool and he began to straighten, but paused and sat down again.

"What was it like?" His voice was quiet, barely audible.

The invalid looked quizzical.

"Magic; what was it like to have magic?"

The servant took a deep breath; what could he say? His gift formed such an integral part of him - this was a chance to convey the majesty of it all, that magic itself was pure. What would Arthur make of that? In the end he opted for an acceptable truth.

"Scary." The servant picked at his fingers and spoke slowly and methodically. "It's a big responsibility; people depending on me, having to make the right decisions, keeping control, not getting angry. The things I ca - could do... you've seen what happens when hate takes over; what if that happened to me?" Merlin's eyes were like saucers, then he became reflective. "It's beautiful too; the ability to heal, to protect... that's what I try-tried to do."

Arthur's face was neutral and the silence stretched on until it was almost unbearable.

"What would you have done if it had been permanent?" Merlin asked in a small voice.

The royal froze, then rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know… it's complicated." He pulled at his hair. "There's the law… but what sort of monarch would I be if I condemned you for something you could not help? You saved the kingdom, stopped a threat... That's something that should be rewarded, not punished."

He got up suddenly, striding over to the small window, and observed the people below. His shoulders tensed. "There are a lot of things to consider -"

The warlock let out a small cough, interrupting. "Just as well you don't have to, then." He turned his head towards the wall and bit down hard on his lip.

The two men stayed like that for a while, neither knowing what to say. Arthur broke the quiet.

"And now... to be without it?

What is he asking? It couldn't be switched off or ignored - not for him. To be separated from his gift had been intolerable, like having his soul ripped apart. Arthur was trying so hard and it pained Merlin that yet again he could not be completely honest.

"Some people are not meant to have such power." He swallowed and forced out the next sentence, hoping the royal would not notice the buildup of moisture in the corner of his eyes or the roughness of his voice. "There is no place for magic in Camelot." He shrugged and gave a sad smile, finding the bedclothes very interesting.

Arthur nodded, clearing his throat.

"I'm glad you're back, Merlin. You look tired; get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"No, Merlin, you're not," the king stood, patting his servant's shoulder, "but you will be."

He turned swiftly and exited the room.

The king left behind a bewildered warlock who did not know whether to laugh or cry. He should be grateful that Arthur had fallen for Gaius' elaborate tale but he wasn't. He knew the physician did it to protect him but he was weary now, tired of all the lies.

Everything was returning to normal, he was still a servant but would he ever move on like his friends? Would things ever change? These thoughts would continue to plague him and keep him awake at night, but right now he was so exhausted nothing would stop the dark vale of sleep taking him.

Arthur stepped outside the physician's chambers and took a deep and shaky breath. Cradling his head in his hands, he let himself slide down the wall.

It was the hardest conversation he'd ever had; it had confirmed all his suspicions - where there'd been doubt now there was certainty. Merlin was much more intelligent and cunning then people gave him credit for. He was loyal, completely selfless, and the bravest person Arthur knew, but when would the man he called his only true friend have the courage to tell the king he was a sorcerer?

His servant had magic; there was no denying the evidence. The king had meant to confront him - to ask how long - only, when he saw the terror and pain on his face, he couldn't go through with it. It occurred to Arthur that he was just as much of a coward as Merlin.

The royal thought back to that day in the throne room:

Kane was going to kill his servant, of that he was sure. When the bolt hit, Merlin shot across the room in an explosion of light and noise. Total chaos ensued, Arthur could neither see nor stand but he instinctively knew Merlin lived. Suddenly it all stopped and out of nowhere a giant barrier erupted, separating them from Merlin and Kane.

The king, a trained warrior, was stuck behind a blasted shield whilst Merlin was left alone with Kane. Guinevere went to get reinforcements as he pounded against the wall. Muffled cries, tremors, and flashes of colour were all that penetrated until cracks appeared and the barrier was breached. Magic broke through, creating huge craters, then another explosion shattered the shield completely.

The room was transformed, covered in ice crystals and debris, cracks in the ceiling and holes in the floor. Merlin was lying limp on the ground and muttering, Kane unmoving. There was no sign of the rock but the air fizzed and popped, alive with magic.

The room could collapse at any moment but Arthur's only concern was for his servant. He ran, feet skidding on frost and broken glass. Merlin was now completely still. Arthur dropped to his knees and cradled Merlin in his arms, he rocked and shouted trying to get the unresponsive man to wake.

Merlin was a mess, his clothes torn and blackened with a mixture of dried blood and soot. Dust clung to his hair and face, but a loud crash signalled there was no time to remove it. The chandelier lurched, swinging precariously above them, then more fissures appeared in the walls and floor. They needed to get out.

He shook the servant's shoulders until he grunted and tried to speak. Arthur was delighted, but the joy died as the servant slowly turned his head and opened his eyes. Merlin's irises glowed gold.

His servant stared at him, tears tracking down his cheeks making channels in the dirt. "Only to protect…only for you..." he whispered. Then his head lolled to the side, eyes falling shut, body boneless.

Light continued to radiate from under his lashes and a familiar ball of energy formed in the palm of the unconscious man's hand. Time seemed to still, then work in reverse. A wave of warmth washed through the king, taking away the sting in his shoulder. Arthur watched in awe as the collapsing room transformed; cracks in the walls becoming smaller until there were only scars. The ice disappeared, the craters in the floor closed over, and the unconscious guards and knights began to murmur and stir.

The air cleared, magic dissipating until all traces were gone. The royal looked around, stunned. The room was still wrecked, but safe and sure. Miraculously there were no major casualties bar Merlin and Kane. Arthur couldn't care less about the noble. He wanted to question him, but if he died sobeit.

Shouts heralded the arrival of reinforcements. Guinevere stood serene amongst wreckage and Geoffrey popped up from behind the fallen furniture. Gwaine staggered to his feet nursing his head and most of the guards and fallen knights also started to move. They approached their king and he had no idea what he was going to say.

That had been five days ago. Plenty of time to mull it all over.

The king of Camelot was no stranger to magic, he'd felt the devastation and pain it could cause but he'd never seen it as a tangible force. This time he'd witnessed magic taking form and being harnessed like an element. Kane had extracted the raw energy seeking only to control and destroy; Merlin used it to protect. Such opposing results, dependent only on the will of the person manipulating it.

To Uther magic was a poison, an evil that would twist and corrupt. Even Arthur had believed magic destroyed Morgana but he was wrong - it was the power it brought that caused her to change beyond recognition. Kane sought revenge by any means possible; the manipulation of magic was an opportunity, not the cause. The rock was just a conduit and now it was destroyed along with the man that had tried to control it.

The attack on the royals and Kane's use of the stone had been witnessed by many; fewer had seen Merlin rush blindly in trying to distract the noble, but most of the court now knew the story and the outcome. As to the details… Geoffrey claimed he could not remember much since he'd lost his glasses in the explosion and had been pinned behind a table. Guinevere agreed that it had been difficult to see anything but she felt certain an explanation would be forthcoming if Merlin recovered.

Arthur was the only one who had seen Merlin's yellow eyes, the only one who knew the truth.

The royal had been shocked and angry at first but on seeing his servant so helpless and damaged, so cold and lifeless… Arthur couldn't let him go, no matter what he was.

They'd tried to keep Merlin warm with blankets, placing him by the hearth, but it did not work - all the fires went out as soon as they were lit. It pained Arthur to think he might lose Merlin without knowing the truth. Eventually some warmth and colour crept into his servant's broken body and Arthur felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders.

Gaius had returned within a day and, once his patients were stable, the physician listened impassively to all that had occurred. Then, as always, had provided a plausible explanation as to why Merlin had been able to use magic. It should have been the perfect excuse to turn a blind eye, the answer to all Arthur's problems, but this time he just couldn't believe it.

He'd already gone over the events and there was no way around it; Kane had just blasted anything in sight, Merlin had manipulated the elements with a skill that only came from time and practice. How many other stories of seemingly inexplicable feats were mere fantasies and really the work of his manservant, the secret sorcerer?

There was so much he needed to find out, but it would have to wait - evidently it had waited the entire duration of their acquaintance so what was a bit longer? In truth, Arthur could not get his head around it and if the royal did not admit he knew he did not have to deal with the consequences straight away. The last few days had proven the people of Camelot were not ready for magic; he himself had failed to confront his servant and Merlin was unable to share his secret with his king. Arthur needed time - they all did.

The royal heard footsteps. He hauled himself up, joints protesting; he'd sat far longer than intended.

Gwaine rounded the corner, looking flustered and concealing something in his hand.

"Merlin's awake?"

"He was – he's asleep now."

"Maybe I'll go in and wait." The knight tried to manoeuvre past the king but an arm barred his way.

"What's that?" Arthur demanded.

"What?"

"That!" He pointed at Gwaine's hand.

The knight flicked his hair and shrugged. "Nothing important."

"Let me see."

Gwaine was reluctant. "It was just something we found in the great hall during the renovations; I wanted to ask Gaius about it." He did not add that he wanted to discuss it with Merlin - that there was much he needed to talk to his friend about.

Arthur grasped the mangled piece of metal, studying it. He knew exactly what it was, but wouldn't tell Gwaine.

"Gaius is not there and this," he waved the distorted cuff in the air, "probably belonged to Kane. I'll get rid of it, no need to bother Gaius." He pocketed the artefact.

The knight looked affronted. "Still, I'd like to see Merlin when he wakes up." Gwaine removed the king's arm and edged into the room. Faint snoring could be heard as he opened the door and crept inside.

The king studied the mangled metal. When he was a boy, Uther had taken him down into the vaults to show him the manacle. He'd been told how special it was, something that would cut an evil sorcerer off from their power. It was to be reserved for the strongest, as even they could not stand it for more than a few hours - begging for mercy and clawing at their own flesh, such was the pain it caused. Uther had believed it was a wonderful device and their distress only demonstrated the true nature of magic.

Arthur punched the wall. You stupid, stubborn fool, Merlin. Why could you not tell me? It all made sense; it was Merlin who had set off the truth stone, then gone to extreme measures to suppress his magic. The cuff must have caused all the strange behaviour, not to mention the ring of excoriated skin on his forearm.

Had Kane only released Merlin's magic when he attacked him? Judging by the explosion and the state of the manacle it would appear so.

Arthur pulled at his hair in frustration; things could not go on this way. He'd always known there was something strange and unworldly about Merlin and now he knew what it was. His friend did not have enough faith in him to tell the truth and that hurt more than he wanted to admit.

He'd thought he was building a better Camelot, one of equality and peace, but all the mistrust and hysteria within his kingdom had to change. It would be a slow process. He would give Merlin six months to tell the truth and in that time he would try and make Merlin confide in him by being the sort of king Merlin had always told him he could be.

The Once and Future King cracked his back, making his way up to the bed chamber he shared with Guinevere. She would help him with this journey, but tonight he would sleep knowing tomorrow would herald the beginning of a new outlook for him and his people.

TBC...

So I hope you enjoyed that, hope it was the outcome you were looking for! Let me know what you think.

There is an epilogue to follow, which should tie up all the loose ends!