(12) Excalibur

"Merlin, why are we all the way out here in the middle of the night? Tell me again."

"Because there's something you need before the battle with Niniane."

Arthur growled slightly. "That's not an answer. We need to be back in the city by sunup, or my father will throw a fit."

"You'll be back in plenty of time," said Merlin. You. The 'we' was debatable. "We're here."

"And here is where, exactly?" Arthur asked peevishly. "Look, Merlin, I'm tired, it's dark, and–" He stumbled forward slightly.

Merlin caught the back of his tunic. "We're at the edge of a lake."

"Oh, joy. I wish I could see."

"Hmm. Do you trust me, Arthur?"

"Yes, Merlin, I trust you. Has the fact that we are in the middle of the forest by a lake on a whim of yours completely escaped your notice?"

"Can you promise not to panic?"

"Can I –why would I panic? It's only dark."

If the situation were not so serious, Merlin would have enjoyed Arthur's look of total non-comprehension. "I was talking about panicking about the light."

"Merlin."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Why am I promising?"

"Because I am about to do something that is very illegal, and I hope you will still trust me afterwards, though I can't expect you to."

Arthur sighed angrily. "Stop being so melodramatic, Merlin. Will it help me see where I'm going?"

"Certainly."

"Then I don't mind."

"Why don't I believe you?" Merlin muttered. "Thaes leohtfaetes thother." A flash of blue-white light condensed into a small sphere in Merlin's hands, illuminating his pale face and Arthur's suddenly gaping one. "Here, take it." Merlin thrust the light into Arthur's hands before he could back away. "It's quite safe."

Arthur stared at it. "Merlin." He'd seen this before. Someone had summoned a light to help him fight his way out of a spider-filled cave with a cure for the poisoned Merlin. Magic. Merlin had just used magic.

"Look, I don't care where or how you learned it, just don't, please don't do that, Merlin! I don't want to see you corrupted by magic, and I don't want to see you arrested for using it."

Merlin shook his head. "You don't get it, Arthur. I've never learned magic. I was born with it."

"But magic is–"

"Treason, I know. I've been committing treason my whole life by simply existing."

"Merlin…" Arthur shook his head, an appalled expression on his face. "The law…"

"I know. By law, you must kill me now. I told you I was about to do something illegal." Merlin walked to the edge of the water and knelt. Water lapped at the toes of his boots, gently, like a lover's touch. A lover's touch! Freya, who had died here, had been twice the woman Niniane ever was! What had he been thinking? "Cumae se heoru thas fenlglas!" Merlin cried aloud."Cumae Caliburnam!" Something long and glittering rose out of the water and drifted through the air like a scrap of mist. Merlin reached up a hand and caught it.

Arthur stared. Merlin stood at the edge of the lake, holding a sword aloft. This was not the Merlin he had always known, the clumsy, smiling, innocent Merlin, and yet…it was the Merlin Arthur had always known, the wise, secretive, warrior-like Merlin, the hint of something hiding in his well-like eyes. How had he not seen it, not seen the sorcerer right under his nose, at the very heart of Camelot?

"This is yours," said Merlin. It was the sword Uther had described.

Merlin knelt on the bank and offered the sword to Arthur, hilt first. "Excalibur. She was made for you to wield, and for no other. She was tempered in dragonfire, and can kill the dead."

Arthur took the sword and held it up. A hand and half long, simple and beautiful. He swung it. The balance was perfect. This was a king's sword. Arthur had no doubt it could do what Merlin said it could, and more. It hummed in Arthur's palms, and he had the keen sense that this sword was almost awake, almost alive. Magic. A smile itched to spread itself over Arthur's face. The soldier and knight in him was very pleased. Even if it was a magic blade, this would help turn the tide of the battle.

Arthur's stomach churned unpleasantly.

It was still a magic blade.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

A traitor to Camelot, at traitor to his friendship, and a liar.

"Merlin." Merlin still knelt at Arthur's feet, at his mercy, waiting. "Why?"

"My life is bound to yours, Arthur. It is my destiny to protect you, and I swore to do it –because I counted you my prince, my king, my friend."

Arthur stared at Merlin, shocked out of the trance the shock and the beautiful blade had placed him in. "Friend! Friend? You have betrayed my trust. You are a sorcerer, a worker of magic, and I cannot trust a word you say. You've lied to me for how many years, Merlin? Three? Four? Hah! Friend indeed."

Merlin glared at Arthur. He had half hoped that Arthur would understand, and half expected this reaction, but that did nothing to stop the hot feeling of anger and betrayal in his own chest. "There!" said Merlin. "Can you see why I never told you? I served you, I protected you, I saved your life countless times with and without magic. Niniane asked me to go with her, did you know that? She's not the first, either. I refused because of you. I counted you as my friend. You, Arthur, the son of Uther Pendragon. I actually began to think you were different from him. I thought you could judge people for whothey were, rather than what they could do. I was wrong. You are your father's son. If you can't associate with evil soulless fiends like me, then go on, Pendragon, uphold the law. Kill me. I can't think of a spell that can withstand that sword."

"Leave." Arthur's voice was flat, expressionless.

"What?"

Arthur's face was as impassive as stone, and just as cold. "Did you honestly think I would waste my time –and this sword –in killing you? Leave. I don't care where you go. Leave now, and if I ever see your traitorous face again, sorcerer, I swear I will kill you. Go. Run. Run!"


Merlin ran.

Merlin ran without a thought to where he was going, ran through the dark forest like a hunted creature, ran like all the sorcerers who had run from the Pendragons, simply ran. Branches smacked him in the face like impeding arms, and he tripped and stumbled over roots that he wouldn't have been able to see even if his eyes were free of tears.

He ran.

He ran.

He ran.

And finally, when he was exhausted and could run no more, Merlin tripped, sprawled upon the unforgiving ground, and slept.


"There he is!" Gwen pointed to the fringe of the forest, where a single rider had emerged into the noonday sun. He held a sword aloft so that it caught the rays, an age-old warrior's signal for 'I'm here'. "Thank goodness he's all right."

Uther nodded stiffly. He certainly hadn't slept well that night, and his mental agitation had not been improved by getting up to find both Arthur and his sorcerer-servant missing.

"Is Merlin with him?" Gaius asked anxiously.

Gwen shaded her eyes against the sun. "No, Arthur is alone."

Gaius drew in a shuddering breath. "I was afraid of that."

"It is true then?" Uther asked. "It occurred to me last night that it all fit together…that Merlin is the son of your sister by the Dragonlord?"

Gaius looked briefly shocked, then nodded.

"You hid him well," said Uther. "And I am strangely glad."

"Arthur!" Gwen ran to him as soon as he entered the courtyard. "What–"

"Later," said Arthur dully. "Is this the sword, father?"

"It is," said Uther. "Where did you find it?"

"Merlin retrieved it from the bottom of a lake…with magic. Merlin is a sorcerer."