"I have magic, Arthur."

The words were out before Merlin could stop himself. Suddenly, a surge of panic bubbled up inside him. "But, please, Arthur, I'm sorry, I-I couldn't, I just… and I-" Arthur's brow furrowed as he processed the information.

"That's impossible." He concluded. Merlin smiled nervously.

"It's true. I'm a sorcerer. I was born with magic."

"Born with it?"

"Yeah, it's been a part of me since the very beginning. It doesn't usually happen that way, but I guess I'm special or something. Some used to say I was blessed, but really, it's more of a curse. Especially having to hide it from you, that's the worst part."

"All these years, you've had it?"

"When your father made me your manservant, I was terrified. How was I supposed to keep my secret safe right within the walls of the castle? I couldn't tell you, had your father found out, I would have been burned at the stake."

"You? A sorcerer? Is this some sort of joke, Merlin?" Arthur asked, not able to grasp the idea. Merlin, thankful that Arthur hadn't had some sort of outburst so far, held out his palm to the candle, making the flame take the shape of a dragon flapping its wings. Arthur's breath quickened with his heart rate. He couldn't process everything he was feeling. Finally, he let out a gentle chuckle. The chuckle grew into a full, hearty laugh, and Arthur's eyes grew wet with his forced tears. Merlin was bewildered, and when the laughs finally died down, he ventured to speak.

"Arthur?" The former prince looked at his friend and wrapped his arms around him in a bear-hug, then rubbing his knuckles on his head.

"I knew you couldn't have done so well in that fight." He said, the hint of a laugh still playing in his voice.

"Wha-What?" Merlin's voice still shook with nervous terror.

"The first day we met. Before my father appointed you as my servant. We fought, remember? With the maces. You nearly beat me. But, you used magic, didn't you?" Just thinking about it made Arthur let out another laugh. "You clever idiot…" Merlin had prepared himself for every possible outcome of revealing his secret, every single one. However, this had never even crossed his mind.

"Aren't you… angry?"

"Of course I am. You've hid this from me for many years, Merlin, of course I'm angry. But, I don't think you would have hidden it if you didn't have to. And, I mean, what do I know? Everything else my father said was wrong… But, magic? Really Merlin?"

"If I could have chosen to be born normal, become your manservant and just be with you, not having to spend every single day hiding, you can bet I would have done it in a heartbeat. But that's not how life works, Arthur. That's not how magic works. Either you are chosen, or you're not. That's it. But, I only wanted to help you. I never, ever, thought of hurting anyone. I wanted to use my magic for good. And I did, Arthur. I did."

"I believe you, Merlin. Besides, you're still that goofy incompetent manservant I've always known. Except now, you're a goofy incompetent sorcerer. And, yes, it's weird, but I want to learn about you, Merlin. I'll admit, I feel betrayed. How close were we really, Merlin?"

"I know I could have told you after we left Camelot. But, I cared so much about what you would think of me. I have lived in absolute fear of this moment, but now that it's here, I can't see why I waited so long."

"No, I think it's alright, Merlin. Before now, I don't know if I would have been ready."

"Thank you, Arthur. Really. You have no idea how much this means."

"You don't have to hide anymore, Merlin." At those words, those words he had begun to think he would never have the privilege of hearing, immense relief flooded Merlin. His eyes welled up with tears and he took a deep breath.

"I can't believe it…" The warlock said, shaking his head and smiling. Arthur put his hand on Merlin's shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. Merlin was able to force the tears back. "Thank you so much."

As much as Arthur wanted to be angry, to shout at Merlin for deceiving him for so long, he just couldn't. If he himself had been in Merlin's situation, could he have done any different? He was born with magic, how could he have controlled any of that? It was okay, he decided. It was a strange concept to grasp, thinking about how Merlin could have magic all that time and never once slip up and reveal himself.

He released Merlin, and they simply sat, quiet in the darkness. Arthur had so many questions, but couldn't think of how to word them. Jonathan entered the room. "Your mother is sleeping. I'm going to go, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Thank you, Jonathan."

"Not a problem." He left, and Merlin and Arthur stared at each other in the dim candlelight. In their silence, they heard the muffled sobs of Hunith in her bedroom.

"You should go to her." Arthur said, permitting their conversation to truly come to an end. Merlin nodded and left to comfort his mother. When he returned, Arthur pretended to be asleep, and Merlin laid on his mat, still not quite able to grasp the reality of it all. Had he really just told Arthur he had magic? It was the most at peace he had been in a long time, and he accepted it.

Weeks passed, and back in Camelot, Gaius only grew weaker. Breathing became a task for the old man, fever took its firm hold on him. Gwen left him for a short time while he was sleeping so that she could go speak to Uther. She approached him in the throne room, quickly dropping into a deep curtsy. "What news of Gaius?" He asked her. His friend had been bedridden for several weeks, and Gwen always kept him informed of his condition.

"Sire, it's almost time. He'll be going soon." She said darkly. Uther's face fell, and he dismissed everyone in the room. He pushed himself out of his chair and walked with the servant girl back to Gaius's chambers. Upon opening the door, Uther could see that Gwenivere was right. His face had the shadow of death upon it.

Uther sat in his chair beside the bed, taking Gaius's hand. The ill man stirred, slowly opening his eyes. "Hello, Sire."

"Hello, Gaius. Is there anything you need? Anything at all?" Gaius smiled and shook his head.

"No."

"There must be something you want."

"Yes. But what I want, you cannot give."

"Say the word, and I will find it for you. What is it that you desire?"

"I wish for nothing more than to see my boy again. And I shall, very soon." Uther sighed, guilt bubbling within him for being the reason his dying friend could not have his final wish.