A/N: I don't even know what's going on at this point, aha. This is a dramatic chapter and I don't even know anymore.

Merlin was tired. So very tired. Beyond tired, even. Was there a word for that? Gaius always used the term 'bone tired,' but even that wasn't enough.

It had been a long three weeks, was his point.

The lockdown had ended up lasting four days. Four days of Merlin heading into town and handling the steadily more and more panicked citizens. They were afraid. Merlin didn't blame them. He just wished he had more to tell them than he did.

His father's scouts had returned after the third day, telling how the town was contained, with the non-magical townspeople rounded up and sent to their harshest reform camp. Merlin had grit his teeth, unable to look his father in the eye at the news. They could have at least been sent to a more lenient camp. But no. Only the worst for the innocent villagers.

There hadn't been anymore deaths, at least, and the injured parties were set to make a full recovery. Well, most. One had lost a leg, the scout had claimed grimly, causing his father to grimace. Leg amputations were a harsh reality. And the man was only in his early twenties, an infant daughter to help raise. Magic would help, but it couldn't bring his leg back.

At least he was alive, Merlin privately felt. That was what mattered.

Legislation after that had been dreadful. His father had made an official proclamation, once the lockdown had ended and word could be spread to the rest of the kingdom. Anyone suspected to be harboring rebels would be apprehended and interrogated intensely. If association with the rebel group was determined, execution was the penalty.

Merlin knew his father thought it sounded strong. Proud. All he could hear was fear. Desperation. He'd never thought his father to be weaker.

Freya hated it all. He was still busy, though his father no longer sent him out to various crime scenes. Mostly because there hadn't been one at all since the attack. Like they were waiting. Even still, he was constantly sent around the castle, doing this or that. He had managed to see Freya a couple times, once for lunch, and once when he'd been alone.

Typically he spent most of his time around Arthur, but that day he'd been interviewing servants again, right after the lockdown ended. This time it was the ones who had been considered suspicious. He'd waited a few days, given them time to relax, and then had called them in to interrogate them. He hated the tactic, but it was effective. He had found one servant who had harbored well wishes for the rebels. He hadn't been part of the rebellion, though. A fact that Merlin despised when his father sentenced the man to death anyway. It would have been easier to stomach had he at least been a member. As it was, he'd never forget the screams of his young son, begging his father to come back, even as his head rolled away.

Anyway, Freya had sought him out after the interviews, before the heartbreaking execution. She had looked wane and distraught, like something was bothering her. It hurt his heart to see it.

"Merlin, please. You have to do something about this. Your father is out of control. He won't listen to me! I've been begging him to stop this, that it's madness. He threatened to lock me in the dungeon if I brought it up again! Please, Merlin. This can't go on any longer."

A burst of anger and hatred had rushed through him at the girl's words. How dare he?! His father had no right to threaten Freya! She was good, and pure, and sweet. But he curbed the rage and smiled tightly, dragging her into an alcove, not caring what the guards thought.

"I've been trying, Freya. He won't listen. He thinks this is what he has to do. He says he's done too much to give up now. He won't stop. He can't."

Frustrated tears had filled his sister's eyes, then, anger filling them. It hurt him to see.

"He's making enemies. Too many enemies. We won't recover from this, Merlin. How will people ever trust you after this is done? He will have tainted the Emrys line for good, I fear. I just… I can't…"

Merlin had wrapped his arms around the girl, then, pulling her close as she cried. He understood how she felt. He feared the same thing. How would anyone be able to trust an Emrys after this? Would even he be able to? His sister continued before he could formulate a soothing response.

"Morgana hates it too. I hear her cry with anger every night. I've tried to get her to talk to me, but she's closing off. She won't talk. I don't know what to do, Merlin. I feel like I'm losing her. I, I love her, Merlin. So much. So very, very much. It hurts me to think of it, sometimes. I can't bear to lose her. I can't."

Oh, and how he knew that feeling.

The only difference was that he and Arthur had never been closer together. Literally.

Every night they slept in the same bed, Arthur wrapping Merlin in his tight embrace. It was incredible. Magical. For all that Arthur had no magic, he worked magic on Merlin. It was the only explanation. For the man to be able to take all his fear and worry and sooth it with a single touch… no, a single glance… it was magic. Had to be. More powerful than any he'd ever been able to wield.

To even think of losing him... Merlin held his sister tighter, shushing her softly.

"You won't, Freya. I've seen you two together. She adores you. She's just having a rough time of it. She cares so much about the servants; my investigations are hurting her."

"Then stop! Stop conducting them! The servants are not a threat to us, Merlin. Not unless we make them into ones."

Oh, if only it were that simple! He had to do as his father commanded. More than his father, Balinor was his king. And more than a son, Merlin was a servant to the king. He did what was asked. That was the one thing that had been drilled into his head as a child. And he'd spent enough nights in the dungeon, his father saying that was what he'd get if he disobeyed, to have learned that lesson well.

"I can't, Freya. You know I can't. He's my king," he stressed, hoping she would understand. Hoping she wouldn't hate him. She let out a noise of frustration, but nodded faintly against his chest a moment later.

"I know, Merlin. I know. I just… I hate this. So much. I wish this would end."

Merlin laughed mirthlessly, squeezing his eyes shut against the frustration he felt building within him. He knew how she felt.

"I know. I do too. I'm trying, Freya. God, I'm trying. Please believe me."

"Oh, Merlin," Freya breathed, looking up at him with watery eyes. She smiled, though it was crooked and wobbly. "I know you are. You are so good, so pure. If anyone can save this kingdom, it is you. I only hope you're not too late."

If only.

With that, the pair had parted, Merlin needing to write the report that would, unbeknown to him, lead to the death of an innocent man. Freya hadn't been able to look him in the eyes for days afterwards, knowing his investigations had lead to the horrific sight. He'd never forget the five year old boy, clinging to a lifeless body, until guards had pulled him away. He'd never be able to fix that. Not as long as he lived.

Now it was three weeks following the attack and they were still at square one. They had no idea who was involved and no idea how to make them stop. Merlin wanted to negotiate, though his father refused. Refused to back down. His stubbornness would get them all killed.

The day had started like any other, those past three weeks. With Merlin, warm and safe, enclosed in the arms of the man he was head over heels in love with.

"Good morning, my prince," a sleep husky voice murmured into his ear, making him shudder. Oh, he longed to lean up and kiss the lips that made such wonderful sounds.

But that had sadly ended the normalcy, as before he could reply, an incessant knocking at his door forced him up, eyes wide as he stared at his servant.

Arthur, to his credit, switched over far quicker than he did. Pulling on his thin jacket (to cover the obviously rich night clothes he was wearing, far richer than a servant could ever afford) he opened the door. He and the person outside traded tense words, before Arthur returned inside, face pale and worried. He tried to hide it with a smile, but it was brittle and looked like a light breeze could break it. And then he spoke, breaking any hope of it being nothing serious.

"There's been another attack. Your father wants you in the war room immediately. Don't bother with your robes; regular clothes will do."

Well. Wasn't that a nice wake up call?

Fuck. Merlin hurriedly got out of bed, shedding off his clothes as he did, and frantically put on a random outfit from his wardrobe. He didn't offer a single complaint when Arthur came over and helped him when he got tangled, too panicked to feel any hint of arousal or shame. Once dressed, he felt strong arms grip him, his blue eyes meeting another pair.

"Merlin. Calm down. You need to take a deep breath and think clearly. You're no help to anyone if you're this panicked. Breathe."

Arthur's voice was soft and soothing, his thumb rubbing calming circles on his upper arm. Christ. What would he do without this man to keep him grounded? He couldn't have born the last few months without him.

Listening to the man, his heart began to slow, his breath becoming more stable and less ragged. He stared deep into the bright blue pools and felt like he was drowning, and yet he'd never felt better. He almost managed to forget what had been the matter in the first place as he stared deeply at the man he adored.

A moment later, though, the spell broke and he remembered why he'd been panicked in the first place. And the fear returned.

He was calmer, though. More stable. He smiled weakly at Arthur and nodded his thanks, before he rushed out of the room. He was wearing a purple silk top, typically used for fancy occasions, and green linen trousers, meant for his training (which, by the by, he hadn't had a chance to do in ages. His second in command had taken over training the other Mages, as he took the most experienced and tried to find a solution to their problem). The look didn't match at all, but no one gave him a second glance as they all rushed around, preparing the castle for another lock down.

"Father," Merlin blurted as he entered the war room, a room full of maps and various treaties. It was one he'd rarely entered; only once, really, for an actual war. He'd been eighteen and his father had wanted to show him how strategy worked. He was as nervous now as he had been then, though he was far more afraid.

His father glanced up at his hasty entrance, barely pausing in his barking of orders, men all around as they fluttered away to do as his father commanded. A minute of this passed, Merlin vibrating so hard he feared he'd burst, when his father finally turned his attention on him.

And oh, did his father look exhausted. Like he hadn't slept in months. Maybe that was the case. He knew that if it weren't for Arthur, he wouldn't have been able to sleep at all since the first attack.

"Prince Merlin. There has been a second attack. This time on the town of Willowsvale. There is no word yet on any casualties. It appears they are holding the town, not attacking. That's not the troubling news, however."

Oh, that wasn't what was troubling?! Christ, how worse could it get?

Much, he thought numbly, as his father handed him a note. It appeared to be-

"A list of demands," Merlin breathed, eyes widening as he read the words from the rebel group. The first contact they'd had, actually. So far, no one had contacted them about what the rebels wanted. This was… fuck.

It read:

Dear Balinor (for I refuse to call you a king, as you've no right to the title),

I am writing you today to inform you of how disappointed your actions have made me. For years I have been watching your reign and I cannot begin to express my utter sorrow and anger at what you have done.

It is with my deepest sorrow that I make this list of demands. I do not expect you to follow any of them. But I promise you, false king. They will happen, one way or another. I promise you that.

1. Turn over your crown. You are not fit for such an honor, as you lack honor entirely. You condemn innocent people to slavery, for being different to you. You are no king.

2. Leave Camelot completely. You are not wanted here.

3. Rescind your laws. Before you leave your paper throne, right your wrongs and fix the crimes you have committed.

4. Give up your magic. Magic corrupts and I can see how it has blinded you. Denounce it, and maybe then I will show you mercy.

By the time you have read this, I will have taken over the town of Willowsvale. No death need occur here today; death is not my aim. You, false king, are the harbinger of death. But I will not be afraid to let blood shed should you refuse my demands.

Do not bother to use your pathetic and cowardly magic against us. It took me decades to discover, but I have learned of a way to counter your monstrous magic and nothing you do can break it. If you must fight, fight like a man. Wield a sword and ride out to battle me. I have been training years for this moment and I will savor the moment your body drains of life at my sword. You, false king, have stolen everything from me. My status. My wife. My son and daughter. Everything.

It need not come to a duel, however. I am a merciful man, though you do not know the meaning of the word mercy. Lay down your crown, rescind your laws, and we can walk away without any blood shed. The lives lost here will not be on my conscious, but yours.

Choose wisely. You have until tonight at midnight to decide. If you fail to accept my demands, you will force my hands. Magic is evil, but I have no desire to see lives lost.

Make your choice,

The Dragon.

Merlin was shaking as he read the last words, his heart plummeting as he read the signature. Beside the name was the drawing of a little dragon. A golden dragon on a blood red splotch

The crest of Pendragon.

Arthur had been wrong, Merlin thought numbly, eyes glassy as he looked back at his father. He'd trusted him, and…

"We're locking down the citadel. We do not know how accurate his claim of finding an artifact that repels magic is, as I've certainly never heard of such an artifact, or else I'd have had it destroyed long ago. I am sending an army to Willowsvale to meet these cowards," his father growled, eyes dark with anger and hatred. "This, Merlin, is why we do not show mercy. They'd show us no mercy in our place. Monsters. I'm assuming you recognize the crest, as well as I? It was on the seal for the letter as well. Mercy was never an option. Not with Uther Pendragon."

Merlin felt dead and numb inside. He looked at the letter but couldn't see it. Mercy. The letter spoke of mercy. More mercy than his own father had ever shown, even if it was a facade.

"This is not all," the king intoned, eyes dark. Oh, God. He didn't think he could take anymore. "You and the Mages conducted interviews with all of the servants, yes?"

Well, yes. Of course. He'd been doing that for weeks. He nodded, his father's eyes darkening further.

"Do it again. Probe harder. Ask deeper questions. Only your most trusted can conduct the interviews. I'd say only you, but we don't have time. We have a traitor in our midst. We must find them before it is too late."

Wait. What?

"Father, wait. How do you know there is a traitor? What evidence points to this fact?"

He had been expecting his father to yell at him and say of course there was a traitor, they couldn't trust any non-magical person. Instead his father looked at him hard and grabbed the letter he still was absently holding, shaking it for emphasis.

"This letter. It appeared in my room this morning, sitting on my desk. Before the news of the attack sounded. Whoever 'The Dragon' is, and I'm fairly certain we both know their identity, he had help from the inside. We must snuff him out. Before he kills us all. I've already sentenced my manservant to death, as he must have turned a blind eye to whoever entered my rooms."

Fuck. Merlin felt his knees weaken, mind blank and numb.

A moment passed before Merlin could speak.

"I've already spoken to the servants. I doubt I'll find anything else. And must you kill Adam? He's always been the perfect servant. He wouldn't betray you, my king."

His father laughed, the sound harsh and cruel.

"You are too soft. Conduct the interviews again. I have had the Court advisors draw up a list of questions to ask. Were there any that stood out to you, in your prior investigations?"

He noticed that his father ignored his comments about Adam. He felt sick. Adam has been his fathers manservant for years. He was a good man. His children were grown, but he'd recently become a grandfather. It wasn't fair. He swallowed thickly before shaking his head. He refused to be the reason another servant died. He couldn't.

"N-no, my king. Everything I found I put in my reports."

His father stared at him, long and hard. He was a statue again. Dark and almost sinister. A parody of a man. Looked enough like one to fool the naked eye, but look hard enough and all you'd see was solid marble.

"And what of your manservant? What about him?"

Merlin's heart stopped, eyes wide, before he shook his head. Too frantic, he realized with panic, seeing as his father narrowed his eyes at him. Ohhh. This was not good.

"What about him, my king? He has done nothing to make me suspect him."

"Has he not? I've seen you two interact. He is barely respectful and spends more time glaring than not. That, Prince Merlin, is suspicious."

Merlin cursed his past self. Yes, being distant helped keep his father from sending Arthur away. But now that he wanted to prove Arthur's innocence (and he was innocent. He had to be), he couldn't without backing himself into a corner.

Still. He had to try.

"He and I have reached an- an understanding. I do not suspect him, my king. He would not betray me."

The king laughed again, the sound harsher than the steel kiss of a blade.

"And are you willing to bet your life on that? Your people's lives?"

Fuck. He knew the question was loaded. Saw the anger and suppressed rage rising in his father's eyes. No matter what he said, he'd be damned. Say no, subject Arthur to execution, as his father wouldn't care if he was actually guilty or not.

However. Say yes…

And his father would know. His feelings. Where his loyalty lied.

Part of him was angry at Arthur. After all, he'd trusted the man. Had believed his words and had given up his search into the Pendragon household. Arthur had trusted them, and that had been enough for him.

But Arthur had been wrong.

The question remained, however, if it had been a simple mistake or not. He hoped it had been. Misplaced trust in an old family friend. If not…

Well.

He couldn't even think it.

"Yes," he eventually breathed, knowing he was revealing everything he had kept hidden for years, but couldn't hide any longer. He couldn't be the reason Arthur was killed. He'd rather throw himself on the chopping block himself.

He knew the instant his father realized his words for what they were. Intense rage filled those aged eyes, a snarl on his lips. He composed himself quickly, but his anger remained.

"Well I do not. He will be executed at sundown."

"No," Merlin stated, heart stopped as ice filled his veins. His magic crackled outward, frost covering the room as his inner cold bled into the real world. He couldn't hear any words. Everything sounded like it came from underwater. Muffled and distant. His father seemed distorted. Like a monster. Not a man. Not a king.

Disgusting.

"You have no say in the matter. The boy will die. It is decided."

Merlin felt his magic crackle around him, eyes glowing as it flowed through him. He wasn't looking at his father, just then. He was looking at a monster. A beast who wore his fathers clothes and stole his father's face. This wasn't the man he loved. The man he, once, respected.

This man was nothing.

"If you try, you will regret it."

His voice was dark. It almost seemed to echo. His power was strong, magic mighty. Ice had covered the room, thick and bitter. For a second, he thought his father would strike him. He could feel magic rise against his, but it was no match for his terrible power. He'd raze the kingdom got the ground if anyone even touched Arthur. He didn't care.

However, before he could make good on his threat, his father deflated. He looked down, suddenly looking so weary and bone tired that it shocked Merlin out of his anger. He felt a flash of concern, which he pushed down when he remembered what his father had tried to do. Was still trying to do.

"You trust him, then? Completely?"

The words were dull. Numb. Lifeless. He'd never heard his father so dejected. So worn down. Merlin hesitated, then nodded.

"With my life. He is not involved with these rebellions. I swear it, my king. And if I find out he is? Then I-" Merlin choked here, throat thick. But he had to say it. Had to get his father to believe him. "-then I will sentence him to death myself. You have my word he is innocent."

"And you?" His father rasped, eyes heavy on Merlin. It took him a second to process what the man meant, but his eyes widened impossibly when comprehension hit. He shook his head frantically, needing his father to understand.

"No! No, father, I would never betray you! How can you- I love you! Please. Please, believe me."

He hoped the words were good. He couldn't hear. His ears were muffled again. Everything was black around the edges. He took a breath and the world grew a little brighter. His anger was still swirling around in him, but it was warring with uncertainty and fear. There was even a hint of love, in there. For his father. For the man he once had been. Could have been, had the world been different.

"Swear it," his father demanded, voice low and eyes hard. "Swear it on your mother's grave that you will never betray me. That your servant is loyal only to you. Merlin, mighty Emrys. Vow your loyalty to me."

Merlin nodded his head, heart tearing into pieces.

"Yes. Yes, my king. My father. I swear on the grave of Hunith of Ealdor, late Queen of Camelot, that I will remain loyal to you, my father, my king, until my dying breath. And I vow that my servant, Arthur of Fayford, is not involved in this rebellion. He remains loyal only to me. No one else. This, I vow."

The air crackled with energy, the vow binding in that moment. Some vows meant more than words. They wove deep, deep into your very core. His magic had heard his vow, had melded with his father's, and it had accepted his solemn oath. If he was lying or was proved wrong, his magic would make him suffer the consequences. No deeper pledge could have been made. He had bound himself to his father's servitude. Part of him hated it. Felt sick doing it. But he had to save Arthur. Even if it cost him his soul.

He knew he was being dramatic, but he didn't care. Everything in him was pulled tight and taut. He was still so very tired, having been awakened so abruptly and totally. His fear and panic was making him sick. He was so lost. So confused. All he knew was that Arthur could not be hurt. Even if he was a traitor. Even if he truly despised Merlin with all his heart. He'd rather throw himself into the flames than watch the man he loved more than life die within then. He couldn't. God, he couldn't.

Luckily, after several tense moments, his father nodded, barely noticeable but there.

"Very well, Prince Merlin. You better pray your words are accurate. Or else you will face my wrath, blood within your veins be damned."

With that, the king swept away, hands clutching the list of demands so tight he feared it would rip.

He didn't care. He gasped in heaving breaths, his vision going black again as he forgot to breathe. He felt like he was about to faint.

On shaky legs, Merlin exited the war room. His father had given him orders to interview the servants again. Despite the fact he didn't think it would yield anything, he did what was asked.

The interviews took all day. He sent trusted, high ranking guards to search the quarters of those who lived in the lower town, while he split the interview job amongst him and his three most trusted Mages.

Morgana was one of them. He felt bad. He knew she didn't like the interviews. But she was one of the only people he trusted completely. He told her, in a whisper, that he was sorry but he didn't know who else he could trust. She had given him a blank stare, before smiling sweetly and saying that she understood. He was too worried to feel anything but relief at her words, the unease not even registering.

It was long passed nightfall by the time he had finished. He had interviewed every servant, no matter how young, carefully and fully. He had picked up the questions the Court members had come up with and drilled the servants with them, again and again until they cracked.

But none of them were guilty. Truth serums didn't work very well on non-magical people, but there were spells that made lying hard. He used them. None of the people he interviewed cracked. Not that way. Some burst into tears, namely the younger ones, but they didn't show any signs of being part of the rebellion.

By the time night came, his stomach was aching as he'd not eaten anything that day, too terrified and anxious to even think of eating. Even now, as he entered his room and saw the food Arthur had laid out, the man standing abruptly and making his way over to him, he had no appetite. In fact, he'd never felt sicker, as he looked at his servant, his dearest and most trusted friend, and felt a wave of doubt hit him. Merlin held up a hand, eyes dead and numb.

He hadn't bothered to interview Arthur, before.

He'd do that now.

"How do you know the Pendragons?" He intoned, eyes hard as Arthur stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. The man opened and closed his mouth, shaking his head.

"I-I have no idea what you mean, Merlin, I-"

"Don't lie to me!" He shouted, his magic pulsing around him. It didn't destroy anything, just was pressure, but Arthur's eyes widened. "I'm so sick of people lying! Answer me truthfully, Arthur of Fayford, son of Ygraine Du Bois. How do you know the Pendragon family?!"

Arthur's eyes were wide and terrified, before they shuttered a second later, a complete mask. Merlin felt his stomach clench in pain. God. No. Please...

"I can't answer that, my prince."

It was like his entire life was crumbling. He could only stare at Arthur as he fell to his knees, unable to stand any longer. He hadn't excepted that. He hadn't… No…

Arthur snapped out of his emotionless state and rushed forward, concern in his eyes, but Merlin shook his head, even as his body began to shake violently. Arthur looked pained but he listened and stayed put. Merlin tried to process, but could only see Arthur's expressionless face, blocked off from him.

"W-was it all a lie? T-the care… t-the p-picnic? God. I let you… I let you into my bed. Why? I don't… Arthur please-"

He cut himself off as a sob filled his chest. God no. Why?

Because it was suddenly clear. Why Arthur had gotten so close when he once had been so distant. Why he had been so sweet to Merlin, so kind. Why he hadn't seemed to hate him even despite everything Merlin and his family had done. How he knew the Pendragon family and why he had been so insistent that they were innocent, despite the obvious connection. Despite the obvious truth.

He remembered Arthur's anger, all those weeks ago. When he'd asked about he Pendragon family. He'd chalked it up to residual anger at the going ons of the world. But now… it was so obvious he wanted to kick himself. He'd willingly let himself be blind out of misplaced love.

Arthur was the traitor.

It made so much sense. Everything. But God, did it hurt. It was like his stomach had emptied completely and his heart had collapsed. It was like he was dying. Worse, actually. He'd trusted Arthur so completely. So utterly.

He had to be wrong. He couldn't... but why? Why would Arthur protect the Pendragon family so much otherwise? Arthur told him everything. Everything. Why wouldn't he tell him this?

"Merlin, wh-What? No. No! It wasn't a lie, why would you- it was never a lie! How can you believe-"

"I loved you," Merlin interjected, heart empty. Arthur cut off his frantic words, eyes wide with shock, then filling with pain. "Was that your plan? All along? To m-make me- to, to force me… well it worked. I'm a damned fool, a bleeding heart. Because it worked. You- you… you got me."

His voice was so thick it hurt. Arthur opened his mouth, tears and confusion filling his eyes, but Merlin shook his head hard.

"I just… why? Why, Arthur? Why me? I know you hate my father. I get it. He… he's hurt so many people. He took your father from you. I understand why you hate him. But what did I do? I, I'm not him. I've never been him, no matter how hard I tried. And I don't want to be, not anymore. I want to be a, a good man. A better man. So, I don't understand. Please, Arthur. Tell me. If I meant anything to you at all, even a little. Please, give me that."

Arthur stared at him, a tear rolling down his cheek, but the man didn't even notice it. He just stared at Merlin, standing over him like the executioner. Staring at Merlin like he was a monster in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Something in the look niggled at Merlin. Begged him to look deeper. But he couldn't. Everything hurt. He'd sworn to his father, gave his most solemn oath. He'd trusted Arthur so deeply. So fiercely. Maybe his father was right. He was a fool.

A minute passed before Arthur started shaking his head, more tears falling. Merlin realized suddenly that his own face was soaked. He'd been crying steadily for minutes now. He hadn't even noticed.

"No. Merlin… no," Arthur stressed, voice breaking on the second denial. He was shaking his head harder now, like he was trying to wake himself up. "What- whatever... whatever it is you are thinking. That y-you think I've done. I swear, I didn't. I would- God. I would never betray you. I'd rather die first. You… I would never betray you. Never. Please believe me. Wh-why do you think-"

"The Pendragon family is involved. You swore to me. Arthur, you vowed. You said they weren't involved. Gave me your word. But they are. They are. And now… now you won't tell me how you know them. You lie to me. Hide from me. How can I trust you? I- I swore on my life to my father. On my mother's grave. To protect you! How could you do this?! Why?!"

He was angry, now. So very angry. Angry, and bitter, and enraged. But mostly? Mostly... mostly, he was hurt. So very, very hurt. He tried to push the hurt away with anger, but the anger paled in comparison to the all-encompassing sorrow he felt. The horrible heartache. Gaius had been wrong. His emotions weren't his boon. They'd be his downfall.

Arthur looked like someone had punched him. Like his entire world had just collapsed and turned upside down.

Like the game was up and the chase was over, Merlin thought listlessly.

Minutes passed after his words, both men staring at one another but not actually seeing. It felt, simultaneously, like hours had passed, and at the same time mere seconds. Time didn't exist here. Nothing did.

"No," Arthur rasped, eyes wide and blinking. Tears fell from his face, not ceasing in their fall. He shook on his feet, knees buckling, but he did not fall. He shook his head, mouth turned down into a sour frown, wobbling as he tried to get words together. "N-n-no. That," he gasped, "that can't be true. The Pendragon family is dead. Th-they... they died. In the purge. Everyone… god. Everyone knows this. I…"

Merlin could only stare at his servant (former servant, he supposed; the man would be killed at sunrise, like Adam had been slain that sunset while he worked. He'd be the one to put the man on the block himself, having promised his father he would. Despite everything, that thought brought on even more pain. He hadn't realized that was possible) with confusion, though it was very distant. What did he mean? He had proof. He…

"T-they sent a letter. It was… was addressed. The Dragon. Beside it, there… there wa- was a picture of a dragon. Drawing. Gold ink on... on a red splotch. It's their crest. I know it."

Arthur could only stare, eyes wide with shock and fear. What…

"Y-you would know! You're the traitor! Y-you… you brought… the letter, you delivered it. Only someone in the castle could have. You have access to my keys. You were in my room last night. O-only I, I have access to my father's rooms, outside of him. It had to be you. Who else?"

Arthur shook his head, but it lacked power. He finally buckled and sunk to his knees, eyes dead as they stared at nothing.

"No. I'm not. I-"

Arthur cut out as a sob filled the room, the man crumbling in on himself as he sobbed. Christ. Merlin had never seen Arthur cry before, let alone sob. It-

It snapped him out of it. No. This wasn't a lie. Arthur was a proud man. Deadly proud. He wouldn't let himself debase himself to this degree. Not for anything. No one was that good of a liar. He couldn't be.

Merlin shuffled forward, practically crawling, until he reached Arthur's side. He didn't dare hope. Couldn't. The man didn't even look up. Didn't seem to realize he was there. He placed a soft hand on the man's shoulder, staring intently at him when the man bolted up in response, pushing himself back onto his back, arms breaking his fall hard. It must have Burt but the man's didn't even flinch. Merlin kept his eyes steady, heart light as air. Like anything, even a whisper, could shatter it if it so chose.

"Promise me. Swear to me. Vow. You weren't the traitor. Y-you didn't betray me. You'll never betray me. Swear it, Arthur. Swear!"

Arthur heaved in a huge breath, body still wracked with horrible sobs. He nodded, up and down, so frantic.

"Yes. Yes, Merlin. Prince, Prince Merlin. My prince. My... I swear I did not betray you. I will never betray you. Never. I was not the traitor. I had no idea the Pendragon family was involved or else I'd never have dissuaded you from investing them. I… he's dead. Uther. I thought he was dead. He- I-"

Arthur cut off, another sob wracking his body. It made Merlin's heart clench. Before he could do anything, Arthur shook his head, anger filling his eyes. But it wasn't directed at him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I never wanted this. You were my hope, Merlin. My hope for a better future. I've seen the kind of man you are. The kind of king you will be. And I trusted in you. I trust you, still. You will save this kingdom. This entire realm. I, I never lied to you, my prince. Never. You are the hope for Albion. My hope. You will fix everything. And I can only hope to be by your side, in your glorious shadow, as you do. This isn't- fuck. This isn't the way to do this. Death, and f-fear. I want freedom for my people more than anything. But not like this. Not at the cost of innocent lives. Never like this. I swear to you, Merlin. I swear what I say is true. On my mother's life, on everything I have ever held dear and loved. On this, I swear."

Merlin gasped, heart aching, as a feeling of warmth filled him. It was everything. Warmth and light and love.

It's Arthur, Merlin thought dimly, eyes staring at the man before him. He was feeling Arthur. How... why...

He didn't know how he knew it. Why he knew it. But it was the truth. Arthur was telling the truth. He'd bet his life on in.

In a moment that he would later look back on and wonder what the hell he had been thinking, Merlin darted forward and grabbed Arthur, eyes flashing, heart swirling.

Arthur didn't resist. Didn't pull back. He just looked at Merlin, eyes impossibly sad. Heartbroken. Like-

Like he was resigned-

Like he knew he was about to die-

Like he'd accepted it.

Merlin stared at Arthur for long moments that spread into eternities. Arthur stared back, a quiet acceptance in them. It's okay, they whispered, soft and sweet. I don't blame you.

Well, he thought hysterically, eyes fixed tight on those baby blues. What else could he do?

The first press of lips against his felt almost unreal. Fake. Like it couldn't possibly be real. He'd been dreaming about this- fantasizing about it- for so long now that it felt fake and wrong and unreal. There were tears upon his face. A hole in his heart. And he didn't know what he was doing. He wanted to stop. He wanted to break down. He wanted-

Arthur got over his shock and pressed back, lips warm and full against his, like a promise. I did not betray you, they screamed, pressed hungrily to his, hand clutching his hair so tight it hurt. I never could. I don't know how.

I love you.

Merlin pulled back first. He fell back, skittering away, eyes wide and heart pounding. Arthur started after him, eyes calm, though unbearably sad.

"You're not the only one," Arthur whispered, eyes focused solely on him, "who fell in love."

It was too much. Too-

Merlin shook his head, lying back and staring at the ceiling.

Christ. How had they come to this? Just that morning he had woken up in Arthur arms, more content than he'd ever been before. And now here he was. Crying his eyes out, lying on the floor of his room, having just kissed the man of his dreams. The love of his life. The man he'd been obsessed with for the better part of two years.

And all he felt inside was numb.

"I won't- god. Merlin, I won't push it. I'll never mention it again. But please don't send me away. Don't… I can't, Merlin. I can't. My destiny is by your side. I won't leave you. I won't."

It was too much. Merlin closed his eyes and shut everything down. His heart. His mind. His soul. Everything.

"I don't care. I don't. Go. Leave. I don't want you here. I never want to see you again. Go!"

Merlin gasped at the words, a sob released after his throat pushed the words out. God. What was he saying?

"No. I won't. You'll have to kill me first."

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he couldn't see it wouldn't hurt.

"Please. I can't. It's too much. I want it to stop. Arthur, please. Make it stop."

Pathetic. Childish. Begging, like the weak child he was. Why would Arthur love him? Have faith in him? He was nothing. He was nothing. He was nothing. He was-

"I, I'm afraid I can't do that, Merlin. If I could, I swear I would. All I can do is stand beside you, through it all. I will not leave. I will never leave. I promised you that once, remember? Three weeks ago. I swore I'd never leave. I swear it again. You have my undying loyalty. I will be your servant forever. Long passed my death. This, I swear. This, I vow."

No…

He gasped, another sob coming out. He heard shuffling near him, could feel a presence over him. He tensed, body tight and taut, waiting for the ax to fall. For his death.

Instead, all he got was gentle hand grabbing him. Pulling him, softly, slowly, up. And then he was engulfed in warmth. Achingly familiar warmth.

"I don't know what I'm doing. Arthur, Arthur. He, he wants my father to meet him. To duel. He expects an answer by midnight tonight or he kills. He, he'll kill them all. I can't… Arthur, I can't. I can't save them. Father won't listen to his demands. He wants father to give up the crown, to rescind his laws. He won't do that. He can't. B-but… Arthur..."

Arthur hushed him, holding him close and tight, arms warm and sure. Merlin quieted, holding tight to the man he loved more than life itself. The man he'd willingly die for. The man he'd let his entire kingdom perish for.

What was wrong with him?

"You're sure this is Pendragon? Uther?"

Merlin shrugged, helpless.

"I don't know. The letter… it had the drawing of the dragon. And… I didn't get to see it, but father said that the seal… it was the Pendragon crest. Their seal. It may not be Uther, I suppose. It could be his son."

Arthur laughed at that, actually sounding amused, though very tired and slightly hysterical.

"Oh, I swear to you, Merlin. It's not his son. I know that much."

Merlin was too tired and confused to wonder what Arthur meant by that. His head was aching with the strain of the tears he had shed. He just nodded, burrowing as close as he could to the man before him. Maybe then he could bury himself deep inside, never to return. Carve a place for himself in Arthur's flesh. How macabre.

"If it is… Pendragon. You said that he wanted a message, right? By midnight."

Merlin nodded again, face completely hidden. Arthur hummed, fingers running through his hair. Merlin didn't care. He needed… Christ. He didn't know what he needed. For this to stop, for one. A new life, for another.

"Then we send him the message. Can you get one there by midnight?"

Merlin pulled away, even though it broke everything in him to do so, and looked at Arthur with confusion thick in his eyes.

"I mean… yeah. But father won't meet him. He sent the army. They haven't attacked yet, waiting for more information. They have an artifact, apparently, that blocks magic. Father… he wanted more information before attacking. I could send a message via magic bird, but it wouldn't matter. Father won't negotiate."

Arthur looked at him, face grim. He looked like he was debating internally, fighting with something fiercely. A minute later, Arthur nodded, like he was confirming something within himself. Like he'd come to a conclusion. Not a happy one, Merlin noted blandly, eyes dull as they took in the mirthless smile and dead eyes of the man before him.

"It won't be your father who meets him, Merlin. It'll be me."

Well. That hadn't been what he had expected. He reeled back, shock deep in his eyes. What? Why...

"I mean. No offense, Arthur. But why would Pendragon want to meet you? Unless…"

But no. They'd just gone over that Arthur wasn't the traitor. Unless he lied? But why? And why would he reveal himself now? It made no sense.

Arthur laughed, dark and mirthless. He stared Merlin straight in the eye, sorrow and heartbreak deep within them. He opened his mouth up, but looked away at the last second. Like he couldn't bear to see Merlin's face. Like he was afraid.

Funny. Arthur had never been a coward before. For him to admit such fear…

"Because, my dearest Merlin. I am his son."

Silence. Silence reigned. Minutes passed into hours passed into decades passed into eons passed into eternities. No matter how much time passed, he couldn't comprehend the words. No…

Merlin shook his head, head underwater again. Everything sounded muffled and distorted. What-

"No. No, no. Your father… you said he was dead. You- Arthur..."

Arthur grinned sharply, eyes manic with pain.

"I thought he was. Mother… she always said he went away. I assumed he had died. Why else would he never return? I know why now. I know-"

Arthur cut himself off, growling. He ran a harsh hand through his hair, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and stared Merlin deep in the eyes. So bold, his servant was. To look a prince in the eyes. It was treason.

So was being a Pendragon.

"My name, full name, is Arthur Pendragon. I am the last of the Noble house of Pendragon, stretching back centuries. My father was- is- Uther Pendragon. I am his son."

Christ. His heart couldn't take this. It was… god. Too much. He had thought it had hurt before, thinking Arthur was a traitor. This...

"You promise me, Arthur. Are you that much of a liar? What is the truth anymore? You swore you weren't the traitor. You promised."

He was tired. More tired than any twenty something man should be. It invaded his every pore. Every cell. It was inside his very heart. He was tired. So, so tired.

Arthur shook his head, eyes bright and fierce.

"I'm not a traitor, Merlin. Everything I said… everything I swore… it was the god's honest truth. I have not, nor will I ever, betray you. You are Albion's future. You are Albion's only hope. Whatever may come… I will fight, gladly, by your side. He may be my father, but I hold no loyalty to him. Not anymore."

Merlin laughed, bitter and harsh, the sound burning his throat.

"Liar! Stop lying, pleas Arthur. Please. I know you. Y-you adore your father. Gwaine told me. I've seen it. You live your life according to his memory. You have his sword. His ring. I know where your loyalty lies. I've seen it."

Arthur just smiled sadly, shaking his head. He then lifted his hands up and grabbed something.

His necklace, Merlin realized dumbly. The one that held his ring. All that he wore around his neck now was the merlin charm. Prominent on his broad chest. Displayed.

"Maybe I did, once. And maybe part of me will always love him. But I don't know him. I've never known him. I do know you. I've watched you, Merlin. It's been nearly two years. I've watched you grow from that arrogant prat I first met into the kindest, most sincere person I've ever known. You captivate me. I've never loved anyone more. I've never been so enraptured before. I don't know if it's magic. If this is just… I don't know. But I can promise you with everything I have in me. My loyalty lies with you, and you alone. It will never waver. I give you this now, my father's signet ring. I have worn it every day since my mother gave it to me, on my thirteenth birthday. I have not taken it off since. I give it to you now, Prince Merlin Emrys, last of your line. To signify my loyalty to you. I rescind my familial loyalty to Uther Pendragon. You are my family now. I will give my life for yours, if I must. I swear."

Oh, God. Merlin stared numbly at the ring he now held within his hands, staring at it with unseeing eyes. If he'd ever doubted the man, they were all assuaged now. One did not rescind familial loyalty. It was the highest dishonor to do so, especially if one did not mean it. Arthur would never denounce his father if he wasn't completely truthful. He'd rather die than lie about something like that.

Nodding slowly, Merlin looked up and met cerulean blue. They were steady. Unwavering.

Loyal.

"I accept," Merlin gasped, his mind pulling the memory of how to accept such a declaration of loyalty. Of… of love. His throat was impossibly dry, his stomach gnawing with hunger and nerves. But he had to do this. Arthur had given him everything. Time to return the favor. "I accept your loyalty. Your devotion. And in return, Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, last of his line. I give myself to you. You have my undying loyalty, until the end of time. Where you go, I will follow. Your hardships will be mine to bear. Your sorrows will be my sorrows. I give myself to you in mind, body, and soul. Should I break my vow, should you have any cause to lose faith in me, I shall throw myself into the fire. You are my family. I swear."

It wasn't like marriage, he thought numbly, staring at the ring. It went deeper than that. It was a bond. A vow. It woven deep into your heart, your soul, and it laid itself to rest. Marriages often had a similar vow, but it was not like this. Merlin's magic was so powerful, so instinctive, that it took his words and it made them true. They were bound together now, for all eternity. Arthur likely wouldn't feel it as strongly as he did, if he did at all, but Merlin could. It was there, in his heart. Warm. Steady.

Devout.

Arthur gasped as he held a hand up to his chest, looking at Merlin in wonder. Like he felt it too. Merlin hoped he did. It was so warm.

"Okay," Arthur gasped, looking up as tears began to fall again, heavy and hot. Merlin raised a shaking hand and wiped them away. Tender. His other hand clutched the ring with all his might. If he squeezed any tighter it would enter his veins and be part of him entirely. "I accept. I accept."

Arthur surged forward, then, and sealed his word with a kiss.

And this time?

It felt glorious.

Merlin kissed back with everything he had in him, pressed so tight to Arthur it was hard to tell where he ended and Arthur began. It was so much. Too much. It was everything and nothing and god was it so much. He couldn't get enough.

The two kissed for long minutes, nothing else existing but the pair of men, hearts pounding, love flowing within them. The bond did not include emotion, not like soul bonds would, but he liked to imagine that he felt the love flowing within Arthur. How could he have ever doubted it?

The two were forced apart as the bells chimed, signifying the turn of the hour. For a heart stopping moment, Merlin feared it was midnight and it was too late. He'd failed his people. But the chimes stopped at eleven. He had one hour left.

Arthur looked at him, eyes turning hard and purposeful. He gave Merlin a sorrowful smile, before standing. He held out a hand and helped Merlin to his feet. Merlin swayed, dizzy from lack of food, but didn't fall.

"As much as I'd love to continue this, we have bigger worries. Send a message to my father. It must be him. I wanted to deny it, but I can't any longer. Send him a message saying I will meet him tomorrow, when the sun reaches its zenith. Tell him his son wishes to talk."

Merlin nodded dumbly, heading over the his desk. He pulled out a piece of paper and grabbed his inkwell. His mind blanked as he stared at the paper, but Arthur approached behind him and pressed his nose against the back of his neck. It was unbearably intimate. Merlin shuddered.

Together, the pair was able to come up with a letter that worked to express the message they had determined would work best. With unseeing eyes, Merlin watched as the magical smoke bird he conjured grabbed the letter and flew it away. His father would kill him when he found out. He didn't care. He hadn't rescinded his familial loyalty, too many other vows preventing him from doing that, but he didn't follow his father anymore. He couldn't. Not after everything that had happened. Not after he had murdered so many innocent people. He couldn't.

Merlin watched the bird fly away, hoping it reached Willowsvale in time. Hoping the magic would be able to make it through whatever defenses the rebels had. He felt so achingly numb inside.

And yet, even as his insides froze, he felt warmth within it. Simmering deep, deep down. Arthur came over and took his hand, gripping it tight. His magic sung at the pressure, gripping the hand tightly back.

The following day would be a hard one. Likely the hardest to date. He'd thought that so many times before, and yet it kept getting harder and harder. He didn't know how much more he could take.

But, he felt, heart beating steadily as Arthur dragged him gently from the window, over to the food he had forgotten in his earlier heartbreak. As Arthur sat beside him and fed him the food tenderly, eyes full of love and devotion. As he stared right back, his heart, as busted and bruised as it was, soaring as much as it could on broken wings. He didn't know what it was he felt for Arthur, could only call it love, even if the word paled in comparison to the utter devotion he felt.

But as long as he had Arthur... he knew that he could handle it all. Every last thing.

As long as Arthur was by his side.

He could conquer the world.

END ACT 2

A/N: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is the end of the second act. Next act is the climax of the story. Have fun. :-D