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Merlin stood on the sidelines of the training grounds, eyes roving about from knight to king as one by one, they sparred with each other. The warlock took the time to collect himself. Today had been difficult, to say the least, and long. From talking with Arthur for the first time in weeks, to seeing Gaius and Guinevere… He was exhausted. Physically and emotionally exhausted. He just needed a nap, really. A really, really long nap.
He tried not to think about Arthur too much-he'd probably have another anxiety attack if he thought about the implications of Arthur knowing his magic without knowing him. Or about him knowing about his magic in general. The warlock really didn't know how he was still alive. Something in him had been screaming at him to stop, to run, to hide. To deny everything. But another part, a larger part, had told him to stay, to trust Arthur, and to just trust in his destiny.
Gaius was another story. He'd been a father to Merlin. A mentor. Seeing him again hurt, but since he'd already known about Merlin's magic. It was different. He'd tried to keep conversation light hearted and meaningless. And he'd tried his best not to meet the physician's eyes. It was easier that way.
And then seeing beloved Gwen again. His first friend. She was sweet and kind hearted as always, and it made Merlin's heart ache. Gwaine had mentioned she'd seemed even more familiar with him than anyone. Perhaps there was a chance that she knew… something at least. More than the others. Gwaine thought there was a chance the warlock could retrieve her memories.
Maybe.
The sparring stopped for a moment as the knights switched partners. Now it was Gwaine's turn to fight his king. Gwaine and Arthur had sparred hundreds of times. This time was no different. And perhaps it was because they were so evenly matched that the fight was so entertaining. The knight could almost sense where Arthur's feet would land, and he would act accordingly. Arthur was the same. Strike, hit, back off. Again and again. Here and there either of them would throw in some fancy move to show off a bit, causing a cheer from whoever was watching.
Today, it was just Merlin and the other knights. It'd been raining a little, so none of the townspeople had made their way down to the training grounds. In fact, it was because of this that the ground was still rather wet and muddy, and why Gwaine slipped and lost the match. The king was triumphant, and the knights cheered.
Merlin laughed loudly and stepped past the king, reaching out his arm to help the knight off the ground. Gwaine was absolutely covered in mud from head to toe. "That was fantastic," the warlock commented.
Shaking his head, Gwaine said, "For who, exactly?"
And that made Merlin laugh even more. The knight's grin broadened.
"Merlin, Gwaine, we're going to the pub. Join us?" Arthur asked, probably for the warlock's sake more than anything because everyone knew perfectly well that Gwaine wouldn't miss it.
"Of course!" Gwaine answered heartily.
Merlin simply nodded, still smiling.
The knights, Leon, Elyan, and Percival, whom Merlin had had limited interactions with since he'd been back amongst the group, turned around and began walking towards the Lower Town with Arthur in tow. The king kept checking back to make sure the pair was following.
"You know, Merlin," Gwaine hissed under his breath, "now might be the perfect time for you to tell me some of your fantastical tales."
The warlock cocked an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh. "Oh?"
They were walking back to the castle when it happened.
Dusk was barely falling. Candles and torches were being lit as children were being called in for the night. Merlin had just passed an alleyway when goosebumps crawled over his skin, stopping him in his tracks. His breath caught in his chest and Gwaine's jovial voice faded.
Arthur noticed. "Merlin?"
The warlock took one step back so that he stood in the middle of the alleyways entrance, and he saw Arken at the other end. He was just standing there, staring. Silent.
Merlin slipped down the alleyway without a word.
"Merlin, no!" Gwaine shouted. He jumped to follow the warlock but ran right into an invisible wall. He stumbled backwards, not sure if Arken had created the barrier, or Merlin. The knight slammed his hand against it. "Merlin!"
The warlock could barely hear him past the barrier, but he slowed as he neared Arken's position. Still, the sorcerer hadn't moved. He just stood there, waiting.
Merlin stopped several feet from him. He was just a bit taller than Merlin himself, with a broad, tanned face and close cropped black hair. From here, the warlock could still see the long scar that ran from his ear to chin.
Clearly, he wanted to talk. Fine. They would talk. Merlin wasn't exactly in a position to fight physically, and he'd promised Arthur not to use flashy magic unless absolutely necessary. "What do you want, Arken?"
"I just wanted to tell you that it's not going to work."
"What're you talking about?" Merlin snapped.
"You being back in the fold." His voice was deep, annoyed. "Just because you're back with them doesn't mean you can protect them and better than you have."
"I did even when I wasn't with them. Unless you don't recall, I've stopped you before."
Arken's lips twisted into a sneer. He gestured to the wound on Merlin's side. "To what end? What is protecting him going to gain you? He doesn't even know you."
"He doesn't need to know me. I'll still protect him. Don't you see Arken? He knows I have magic, and yet he's accepted me. Why are you trying to kill him when you know his destiny?"
"Just because he's hiding behind a warlock doesn't mean he's accepted magic. Nothing will stop me. Morgana was right. Emrys is a coward, and Arthur won't be the only one to die before my mission is over. You're going to die without anyone ever knowing who you are. And then I'll give them back their memories." Arken carefully pulled out a necklace. It was a simple leather strap, but hanging from it was a glowing, sickly yellow crystal.
Merlin's breath caught. Instantly, he knew that crystal held his friend's memories. Memories of him.
The sorcerer began walking backwards. "Only once you're gone will they remember. And imagine what that will do to Arthur. Your precious king."
"No!" Merlin charged, ignoring the pain in his side.
But just like he appeared, Arken was gone in a whirlwind of dust. Merlin found Arthur and Gwaine by his side in an instant. The warlock was bent over, clutching the wound on his side. It started bleeding again from his sudden movements. He could also feel another headache coming on already. He'd have to see Gaius again for more medicine.
Gwaine laid a hand on his back, silently supporting him.
"How much of that did you guys hear?" Merlin asked.
The king was the one who answered. His voice was low and stoic. "All of it."
They were laying in their beds that night, staring up at the ceiling, a single candle on the nightstand beside the knights bed. Gwaine had one arm behind his head, and one hand around his midsection, his fingers ghosting the area where he'd been stabbed. It was strange thinking that he'd died. That he had actually died. And even stranger thinking that Merlin had brought him back. He didn't even want to think about the complications of that. He'd rather suppress that.
"How're you doing?"
There was a moments pause in the darkness. Merlin shifted in his bed, mere feet from him, and said: "It's strange… being with Arthur, with Gwen, and knowing everything about them. Knowing their likes and dislikes and what makes them happy or sad. And not really being able to be friends with them."
"They are your friends," Gwaine shot back quickly.
Merlin's voice was flat, void. His face showed no emotion. "He doesn't know me."
"Perhaps not, but he trusts you. They all do. It's like he said: 'There's something about you.' And they like you."
"Leon doesn't."
Gwaine gave a small laugh. "Leon has, and will always be, wary of everyone. Don't take it personally. But even he knows he can trust you."
There were a few moments of quiet. Such quiet that Gwaine thought that Merlin had fallen asleep. He was certainly exhausted enough for it. He deserved to rest. But then his friend's voice, raw and full, slit through the silence.
"You know Arthur said the same thing to me when we first met."
Gwaine furrowed his brow in confusion. Was that a coincidence? "He did?"
"Yeah," Merlin said. "We had a fight almost as soon as I moved to Camelot. I won using my magic but he let me go. He said it then. That there was something about me."
The knight felt Merlin's pain in his own chest. A tight, strong hand twisting his insides. "See?" He said quietly. "He trusted you, even back then. He's not going to hurt you, Merlin."
"I know." He sounded resigned. "I know that in my head, but… everything's different now. My heart is so uncertain. I don't know how to get everyone's memories back. I don't know how to find Arken. I don't know how to fix this. It's… it's so hard, Gwaine."
The knight's heart broke. He had never heard such despair out of Merlin. Happy, cheerful, positive Merlin. He'd grown up so much in the past few weeks, alone, and it was like he was a different person. He was, truly, and Gwaine was trying his best to help his closest friend hang on to that small thread of hope that still lingered. If they couldn't figure this out, it would destroy Merlin, just like Arken wanted.
"I wish I could fix it, Merlin. I really do. Just take this weight from you."
Merlin shivered and snuggled further into his blankets. The candlelight bounced off his unkempt hair, only becoming messier the more he moved about. The knight could see the tension in his jawline, the serious look in his eyes.
"Gwaine, after Arthur is safe. After Arken is stopped… If I can't get their memories back… I plan to leave Camelot. I can't stay here. It hurts too much."
No doubt, Merlin was expecting Gwaine to try to stop him. Maybe not yell, but at least very passionately beg him to stay. To give it a chance. That everything would get better. But what he got was rather unexpected. Or, perhaps, exactly what he expected.
"Then I'll go with you. Young warlock like yourself could get into all sorts of trouble. It's a dangerous world out there."
Merlin bolted upright, dingy nightshirt hanging off his narrow frame. "You don't have to do that. You have friends here, a life. You pledged your loyalty to Arthur."
"My first loyalty…" Gwaine spoke true, with every ounce of passion in his voice that he could muster to make the servant believe him. "…is to you. You were my first friend Merlin. You were the reason I was able to turn my life around. They might not remember, but I sure as hell do. If you go, I'll follow."
The servants eyes were watering with unshed tears of gratitude. "I'm glad it was you, Gwaine. Who remembered. Thank you."
Nodding, Gwaine smiled. "Besides, I miss being out there! There's a whole world to explore! So many pubs to sample!"
Merlin barked out a laugh, a grin spreading across his flushed cheeks. "You are unbelievable!"
