Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Part Two

Chapter Sixteen

Elyan and Leon set out for Camelot shortly after sunrise to fetch Gaius. It seemed that Merlin's fever might have come down some during the night, to Arthur's surprise and immense relief, but he was still disoriented and weak.

The sun came out in full force that morning, so they built a fire outside and moved Merlin there, hoping that the combination of the sun and fire would be better for him than the damp cave. The other knights sat a short distance away, playing dice, although Arthur suspected Gwaine and Percival were probably more focused on pumping Lancelot for information than they were on the game. He could hear surprised exclamations periodically interrupt their hushed whispers.

Arthur sat next to his servant, sharpening his sword and darting frequent glances at the still figure. Merlin still looked flushed, although Arthur supposed lying in the sun could be part of it. He didn't seem to be shivering anymore, at least.

Assuming he survived – which he would – what was Arthur going to do with him?

Legally, he should execute him, but Arthur shuddered and dismissed that thought immediately, as he had every time it came to mind. Merlin wasn't evil. Arthur was certain of that. And he had used his magic for Arthur's good. Merlin's timely intervention the day before, for example, although it didn't take too much brainstorming for Arthur to come up with a dozen other incidents he was certain Merlin had a hand in. Executing him might be what the law demanded, but it was not justice.

He could banish him, but he recoiled against that idea as well. What would he do without Merlin? Without his obnoxious irreverence that always managed to pull Arthur back down to earth? Without that quiet wisdom that reassured him in moments of darkness? And perhaps it didn't seem like much, but Arthur knew that without Merlin, he would laugh far less. Before Merlin, most of the laughter in Arthur's life came at the expense of others. A life without Merlin sounded miserably bleak.

And of course, there was apparently the matter of the protection Merlin had been providing, which was still strange to think about.

What were his other options? Imprisonment? Whipping? The stocks?

Imprisonment had the same issues as banishment. Whipping… he would not subject his friend to that. That would not be justice either. And the stocks would simply be silly for a crime like sorcery. It would be a mockery of a punishment.

And that left Arthur with…well, nothing. Just doing nothing. Continuing on as before, but with this surreal knowledge that his friend had magic.

That his friend was Emrys.

Or, looked at differently, that Emrys was his friend. Just as the druid had said.

It turned everything upside down, thinking of Emrys as Merlin. Thinking of his goofy servant as the friend who would be his equal.

It felt surreal. But strangely enough, it didn't feel crazy.

And if all this wasn't crazy – if Arthur was going to let Merlin stay in Camelot with no legal punishment, if he believed the man could have magic and not be corrupted by it – then Merlin had just complicated Arthur's life in ways he couldn't even begin to think about. Because there couldn't be one law for Merlin and another law for all the rest.

Merlin woke near lunchtime without a sound. Arthur glanced at him as he'd been doing all morning, then did a doubletake when he realized Merlin's eyes were open, watching Arthur with an expression Arthur couldn't decipher. His gaze was focused, no longer vague or confused.

"You're awake," Arthur said, exhaling with relief. He placed a hand against Merlin's clammy head. "Welcome back. You're a little warm still, but not burning up like you were. How do you feel?"

"It happened, didn't it?" Merlin asked tiredly, ignoring the question. "With the Deilen. It wasn't just a dream?"

Arthur let his hand drop, and his smile fell with it. "Yes, Merlin. It happened."

Merlin held his stare, and Arthur could see the fear in his eyes. He thought maybe Merlin was about to apologize for all of the lies, or possibly beg Arthur to understand. Arthur really wasn't sure he was ready for either of those conversations. But Merlin surprised him.

"Should I have killed them, Arthur?"

"What?" Arthur asked, taken aback and entirely unprepared for the question.

"They wanted to kill you. They've tried twice," Merlin continued in a small voice. "What if they come back?"

Arthur shook his head, quickly trying to gather his thoughts. "No, Merlin. To kill them when they were willing to surrender and leave…it would have been murder. It would have been a massacre."

Merlin turned his gaze away from Arthur, and Arthur felt a combination of pity and pain at the uncertainty he saw there. "But if I choose to let them live, and then they come back and kill you later…" he trailed off. "It will be my fault now if you die at their hands."

"Mercy is not a weakness," Arthur insisted, echoing Lancelot's words from the day before. "Even in battle."

"That might be truer for others than for me."

Arthur frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"'His mercy will be the king's downfall,'" Merlin recited.

"Who told you that?"

Merlin suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It was in the book of prophecies."

Arthur raised his eyebrows "The book of false prophecies that you told me contained the words of liars and charlatans? The book that said you would abandon me?"

"It was a different prophecy," Merlin mumbled.

"But the same book?" Arthur waited until Merlin nodded, and then he sighed. "First of all, Merlin, you're the one who told me those prophecies were lies. But even if it weren't a lie, you still did the right thing. You can't wield the kind of power you apparently have and not show mercy. It would make you—" he cut off, and something dark filled Merlin's eyes.

"A monster," he finished. "Did Lancelot tell you?"

"Did Lancelot tell me what?"

"That I'm a monster." Merlin's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "According to the criteria in Cadwaladr's Bestiary, I am literally a monster."

Arthur snorted. "That's ridiculous," he scoffed, and his stomach turned when Merlin looked genuinely surprised by his reaction.

Merlin had expected him to agree, he realized with a chill. Maybe not say it aloud, but the look on his face clearly said he'd expected Arthur to view him as a monster.

"It's true," Merlin insisted. "There's a list of criteria—"

"Who cares about a list of criteria?" Arthur interrupted dismissively, not sure if he was more irritated by the claim or by the fact that Merlin believed Arthur would agree with it.

Or maybe he was irritated with himself, because he couldn't ignore a little voice in the back of his head suggesting that he might be reacting to this conversation very differently if Merlin didn't look like a sick puppy just back from the brink of death.

"I've seen plenty of monsters, and you don't qualify," he added, trying to shove those troubling thoughts aside.

"I'm a creature of magic." Merlin studied Arthur's face as he said the words. "Not just someone who has magic. I am magic. You can't imagine how powerful I am. And you saw what happened. They fled from me. They had powerful magic of their own, and they were terrified. Of me."

"And I'm grateful," Arthur blurted. "You saved my life. You saved all our lives."

"You're grateful for my power?" he echoed skeptically. "That I'm a sorcerer? That I'm capable of more than you could ever imagine?"

"I won't deny it's strange," Arthur admitted. "But…yes. Maybe. I think." He looked away. "I don't know, Merlin."

"You said Emrys was as much a threat to Camelot as the Deilen," Merlin reminded him with haunted eyes. "You said if he is not corrupted by magic yet, he will be eventually."

"I know what I said, but that was before I knew you were Emrys," Arthur snapped, running a hand through his hair.

"It's as simple as that? Knowing I'm Emrys changes your mind about all of it?"

Arthur struggled to put his thoughts into words. "There's nothing simple about it. This is the most bizarre thing I've ever had to process. But I just cannot believe that you are a threat to Camelot. A threat to me. And I absolutely know that you are not corrupted by magic."

"How?" Merlin whispered. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you."

Merlin turned his gaze to the sky, and Arthur could read the doubt and guilt in his eyes.

"I admit, there's apparently a lot I don't know," he conceded to Merlin's unspoken argument. "But that doesn't mean I don't know you. I know who you are, Merlin. Magic or no magic."

"I've killed people to protect you. I don't like doing it, but I don't regret it. And I would do it again. No doubt I will do it again, sooner or later."

"As have all my knights," Arthur pointed out, "not to mention myself. The fact that you're haunted by it, that you don't want to do it, tells me magic hasn't corrupted you."

"But how do you know it won't?" Arthur could hear the genuine fear in the question as Merlin's words sped up. "Even if I'm not corrupted now, what if what you said is true, and magic does inevitably corrupt eventually? That much power, used for evil…"

"I have power too," Arthur pointed out. "And when I use it carelessly or heartlessly, you always tell me. You help keep me focused on what's important. I can do the same for you."

Merlin stared at him in astonishment. "You want me close enough that you'd be able to do that? Even though I'm a sorcerer?"

Arthur sighed. Now they were getting into specifics of what life would look like once they were back in Camelot, and he hadn't worked those out in his mind yet. He hadn't really worked anything out in his mind yet, apart from his certainty that there would be no execution.

"We'll figure it out," he said. "We have time. Right now, you should get some more rest."

Merlin nodded, but he watched Arthur closely.

"What?"

Merlin closed his eyes. "Nothing."

"Come on. Tell me."

His eyes opened again, and he asked hesitantly, "Are you afraid of me?"

It was a fair question, in theory. But at the moment, Merlin looked like a scared child waking up from a nightmare, cocooned in blankets with his eyes wide in fear. The thought of being afraid of him was almost funny.

But Arthur could see Merlin was terrified of the answer to the question, and there was nothing funny about that.

He could destroy him with a single word, Arthur realized.

"Of course not. I trust you." And as he said the words, he realized how true they were. He had no idea what the future would hold, but he knew he trusted Merlin. He might be an idiot, but he was a loyal idiot.

Merlin stared at him, and Arthur knew he was trying to gauge whether he was lying. He forced himself to hold Merlin's gaze. Finally, Merlin gave him a small nod. But Arthur saw the doubt that remained in his eyes when they closed.

They could deal with that doubt. Arthur returned to sharpening his sword as Merlin fell back into sleep, a smile playing on his lips. He was sure of one thing following that conversation: Merlin was going to live. And for now, that was the only thing that mattered.

AN: There was supposed to be another chapter before this one in which Arthur angsted and debated and processed, talking the whole thing out with Lancelot and Leon (and also a bit inside Merlin's fever-brain as he tried to remember what happened). I made a last-minute decision and cut it because I felt like everything covered there was eventually covered elsewhere in the next few chapters. That being said, if you're someone who enjoys giving constructive feedback, I'd love to hear thoughts on whether Arthur's reactions/behavior make sense over the next few chapters or if it feels like...well, like I skipped something. (I mean, let's be honest, I always love reviews in general, but this is one of those places where some concrete feedback in a specific area would be really helpful as a writer!)

As always, thanks for reading!