AN: Thanks for the support and the lovely comments from mersan123 and Eris

Sorry for the late update, had a bit of a rough day in work, but it's over now!

Merlin wandered over to the lake where he had spotted Arthur, walking his horse over quietly, but with no intention to spook the man. Arthur appeared to be in a world of his own, checking and rechecking the buckles on his own horse that, on closer inspection, Merlin found were perfectly fine. He called out to Arthur with a greeting, forcing a casual tone, though he did not hide the frown falling over his face.

"Arthur, what's happened? What's so urgent?" Merlin asked when his second greeting received only an ignorant hum in response; it did not sound angry, but it did not sound particularly pleasant either, and Merlin was curious if his partner was still holding the anger from their previous meeting. There had been nothing but silence between the pair since then, until only last night when the warlock received a note with scribbled words that were clearly written in a hurry, asking simply if he would meet Arthur.

Arthur sighed, dropping his head as his hands finally stopped their fiddling, instead softly grasping the buckles. No other sound escaped him for a while, but eventually he brought his head up to acknowledge Merlin's presence properly; there appeared to be no anger in his expression, but his eyebrows rested over his eyes in an expression of vulnerability Merlin had rarely seen on the man's face.

"I need to see my mother," he finally said, and Merlin blinked, "I'm going to see her."

Merlin could feel his face scrunch before he had even processed the words in his mind, nonplussed by the determination in Arthur's voice. "Did you hit your head again?" he asked quickly, wanting to hit himself when he heard the harshness within his words.

Arthur's serious demeanour was set, though, and did not falter under Merlin's inappropriate joke; when he turned away, the warlock worried his lip, but the man simply began rooting through the bag strapped to his horse. Merlin watched curiously, tilting his head to get a better view of what was being searched for, but he did not wait for too long when Arthur carefully pulled out an object wrapped in a dusty cloth. The warlock sniffed when Arthur brought it closer to him, both sets of eyes stuck on the reveal as the cloth was gently peeled away. The object appeared clean but old, and Merlin's eyes squinted when he wondered how Arthur had procured it: he was so educated in magic to see the signs of objects that possessed some power, and he was sure the markings etched into the horn, almost faded completely, were of the Old Religion.

"It's magic," Arthur said, cutting off Merlin's attempts to decipher exactly what kind of magic it was.

"Yes."

"The horn of Cathbhadh, have you ever heard of it?"

Merlin thought for a second before shaking his head, "I imagine it was one of the many magical artefacts stolen during the war." Arthur stared at him with an exasperated expression when the warlock refused to conceal his contempt for the acts of thievery the war endorsed.

"Yes, well," Arthur cleared his throat, "I certainly didn't steal it." Merlin eyed him carefully, more playful than filled with true suspicion, but Arthur carried on regardless. "It is said that it can open the door to the spirit world."

Merlin inhaled a sharp breath, almost letting out a whistle as he admired the object once more, "I have only ever heard of such ceremonies, they were led only by high priestesses."

"I must speak with my mother."

Merlin folded his arms, "isn't that a bit hypocritical?"

"It's not as though I'm the king who banned magic," Arthur argued back defensively with a shrug.

Quiet fell over them as the patter of raindrops offered the only source of noise against the leaves above and the tiny splashes it created in the otherwise still lake; Merlin was curious to inspect the horn closer, but what he needed to know about it Arthur had told him. Arthur only looked more determined by the minute, ignoring Merlin's more cautious mindset as he set his mind on the task he had finally revealed to the warlock.

"This is powerful magic, Arthur," the warlock spoke low. "Are you sure about this?"

"I have to do this, it could be the only chance to ever see her."

"I understand," Merlin nodded.

"And you'll join me?" Arthur asked, again with a tentativeness intertwined with his earlier vulnerability that Merlin was still struggling to adjust to.

"Where are you to go?"

"The stones of Nemeton."

"You're sure you want to do this? You know what you're doing?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Merlin replied without hesitation, and Arthur offered his small but truest smile. "I'm always by your side."

The journey was quick, but the silence shrouding the pair as they travelled made it drag on, and relief was one of the many emotions Arthur felt drowning him when they began to walk the short distance towards the stones looming ahead. He could sense Merlin's apprehension from behind, but paid it no attention as he walked with determination towards the rocks standing tall. There was no doubt when they came to a stop Merlin would reiterate the dangers of using such powerful magic, and whilst Arthur would not admit it, he was beginning to feel less sure as the stones grew taller, their power almost palpable even to someone without magic.

The king was not sure when his legs had stopped, but his feet planted themselves in the ground as his hesitance grew, finally having reached their destination. The fields surrounding the stones were silent, a quiet breeze pushing the grass in the direction of the circle of rocks, something Arthur told himself was pure coincidence.

Merlin finally reached his side, and while he had expected to hear the warlock's worrying, he instead felt comforted as Merlin stood firmly beside him. It felt odd to be the hesitant one for once, but even without the ceremony having taken place the stillness of the area caused fear to worm its way around Arthur's heart. Merlin's arm rubbed against him, and he was reminded that he had let magic into his life once before, but Merlin's magic was a warm sort of power; he had only ever seen the warlock's true terrifying power a couple of times, the majority he had seen of it were those small tricks that tugged Arthur's lips into a smile.

A hand found its way onto his shoulder and he was brought back into the real world, "you know what to do?" Arthur nodded. "You won't have long, and whatever you do, don't look back. If you do, your mother's spirit will be released from the spirit world, and she will never be able to find rest again."

Arthur gulped, hoping Merlin did not notice, the pressure mounting over him the longer he stared at the circle. His legs were turning more liquid by the second, and he took a breath, as if inhaling the confidence he needed, "right." Pulling the horn from his belt and to his mouth, he stood tall, "see you on the other side."

Blinded for a moment by the bright light that trapped the circle, at first slowly fading in before it formed fully in a heartbeat - possibly Arthur's own, which escaped him as he blinked when only white met his eyes. Just as he had adjusted to the beams and began to believe nothing more could catch him off guard, the figure appeared like the light did, from nothing. All he could see was that she came from the light to stand in front of him, several feet apart. He wished to close the distance but found his feet planted to whatever had replaced the yellowing grass, and so he did all he could to take in her appearance. It was difficult, as her pale skin and white draping dress merged with the background, but the features she shared with him stuck out as blue eyes stared back at him with crinkles surrounding them; she appeared so alive, so vibrant as if in her youth, so much so that Arthur had to remind himself where he was.

"Arthur," the lady whispered, in a voice he had heard only as a baby, but a voice that came rushing back to him the moment she spoke. A smile formed as tears laced her eyes, something Arthur would have found strange had his own eyes not distracted him as they started filling similarly with their own tears.

"Mother," he managed to choke in reply, "not a day goes by that I don't think of you."

"And I you." She nodded, the crinkles around her eyes pushing even closer together. Arthur admired her strong smile as he tried hard to focus on a single emotion, his breath leaving him in sharp gasps. "It is good to see you, so tall and…" her words failed her as she let out a fond sigh, lifting her hands to her lips as her eyes roamed over the son she could not raise.

The sadness coating his words overshadowed her happiness, "there are times when I feel so alone," he swallowed, "I want more than anything to have you by my side."

Her hands fell with her smile as Ygraine watched her son struggle, "you must never feel alone, Arthur. You have good, loyal friends, and a kind heart; I have seen that you are becoming the king that I always knew you could be."

"How?"

"I see everything, I am always watching over you. Not a moment goes by that I wish you could know that, and now you do." Arthur watched in awe, swallowing more tears as the words washed over him, granting his fears some respite as he finally experienced a mother's love. "I also know, son, why it is you are here."

"I'm here because I wanted to see you, because I didn't want to forget you."

"I know," she nodded, "but I know that there is something else. I understand why you had to come now, Arthur."

"I just need the truth," he begged, wondering if it was the spirit world that was weighing him down or his concerns.

Ygraine nodded in a no-nonsense sort of way, making Arthur feel a laugh almost rise from him as he imagined the queen she had been; Uther had never divulged much about her, but he had heard from many that Ygraine had been a kind and intelligent queen. "We have little time, but I will tell you the truth." The ghost took a heavy breath before fixing Arthur with a levelled stare, "Arthur, what you have heard recently about your father's desire for power is true." Before all of the words have left her lips Arthur ducked, anticipating each one but no less feeling the brunt of their meaning, wondering not for the first time how he had any air left in him for it to have been knocked out of him so often. "There is more to the story, though, do you wish to hear it?"

Arthur gulped, fixing his stance as her compassion reached him, and again he wished to approach her, for her to hold him, but when he tested his feet they still would not move. Instead, he simply replied, "I must."

"Very well, but it will be hard for you to hear." Arthur nodded with more power than before, determined just to get somewhere with answers, rather than more questions. "When your father began to kidnap and torture those with magic for their knowledge, rebels rose up. Nimueh, as you know, led the group. I became aware of this myself, but it took your father some time to find out who it was because I fed Nimueh the information. I was part of their rebellion."

Nimueh's dark cloak trailed behind her, flicking up as she turned her quick walk into a run as soon as she spotted the door to her mentor's home in the near distance. With a quiet tap against the wood, her mentor opened the door carefully before seeing a friend and allowing her in. Nimueh's breath still came out heavy and short, so Balinor ushered her into a seat in his humble living room, a place usually filled with warmth and life now cold and brimming with fear.

Settled with a hot drink between her hands, fingers wrapped around the cup to draw out the temperature to settle into her bones, the Court Sorceress stared at her old mentor with a determination she had always had but hoped never to have to use seriously.

"We must unite, Balinor."

The old man leaned back in his chair, watching her with concern, "How?" he scratched at his beard, his soul heavy as he thought, "those far away from the citadel are still unaware of the situation, even some here only know of people going missing - nothing more."

"Then we must tell them," Nimueh leaned forward, ploughing on despite the caution in Balinor's expression, "I will lead a group of the few who know the truth, and together we can make others aware, we can unite them."

Balinor hummed, "nobody has given Uther want he wants-"

"-yet," Nimueh quickly bit out, causing Balinor to resume his humming.

"Will they believe you?"

Nimueh rolled her head over her shoulders with a sigh, "they have to." Setting her shoulders she said, "if we cannot fight back Balinor, if we cannot take advantage of our positions, then soon there will be nothing left. Soon," she gulped, "we will have nothing to fight for."

"Nimueh was the leader, but she was not evil. She was compassionate and kind, and she did what she could to aid those of her kind trapped in the dungeons. One evening, I caught her sneaking into my chambers, and she told me the truth."

Nimueh had become so practised in sneaking around the castle that it was almost second nature to her; she hid before the guards could even signal their arrival, blended in with staff, and one night, she easily found her way into the chambers of the king and queen. The door opened silently, but when the sorceress tiptoed into the room, she was caught short by a figure sitting at the desk poring over some documents scattered all over it.

The queen must have sensed her presence, because before Nimueh might have recovered from her surprise and left as silently as she had entered, Ygraine locked eyes with her and frowned, "Nimueh? What are you doing here?"

The sorceress shuffled further into the room, frustrated that she could not read Ygraine's expression enough to know if she was perfecting the casual entrance. "I came to see you," she replied steadily, her brain supplying different parts of different excuses at an irritatingly slow pace. "Are you busy?" The sorceress nodded down to the papers.

"No, not at all," the queen smiled as she dropped one of the sheets, giving Nimueh her full attention - not exactly part of the rushed plan. "Uther has simply been driving me mad, so I thought I would come and read something dull to drown out his rants." Ygraine laughed, and Nimueh forced a chuckle as she walked over, hoping the new conservation was trailing away from her strange entrance.

"Your Highness?"

"Of course, he will not tell me why he is angry, no, because that is none of my concern, I am only the queen." Ygraine shook her head, but when Nimueh had silently sat herself across the table the queen's expression turned; the sorceress watched as her smile turned clever, one she had grown used to when Ygraine would explain to Nimueh exactly how she was always one step ahead of her husband. "But I am sure it is to do with your secret group of rebels aiding those secretly locked in our dungeons." The queen's eyes twinkled in the flickering candlelight, and Nimueh's eyes widened; she briefly debated lying to her friend, but the all-knowing-smile had reached its peak, meaning Ygraine was well aware of what Nimueh had been doing, and lying would therefore be futile.

"You know." Nimueh leaned back, offering the queen her own smile of admiration.

"Of course."

"Does Uther?" she raised an eyebrow.

"That man is more callous than he is clever, and his useless knights certainly do not offer much." Nimueh laughed genuinely this time. "I have not said anything myself, either." Ygraine's smile remained, but her eyes lost their delight.

"I did not accuse you of such."

"You are my closest friend, my only true friend here, Nimueh. There is nobody I trust more than you." Nimueh nodded slightly. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life," Nimueh responded in a heartbeat, but heard what went unasked. "This was delicate, though; it is not only my life at stake."

"I know."

"It is not just my people I worry for, but you, too." Ygraine frowned. "If you knew, I might not have been able to protect you - I still might not."

"That is what worried you?" Ygraine asked faintly. " My safety? When you are so precarious with your own?"

"I am leading this cause; I made the decision. If I told you, I would have robbed you of the choice. You are my closest friend, too, Your Majesty."

Ygraine shook her head fondly at the title, "I think we are a little past that now, surely." Nimueh smiled. "Anyway, now that we are both aware of the situation, I would like to make myself useful."

"Ygraine?"

"Uther is arrogant, unjust, and he does not listen to a word I say - he does not yet know I am aware of Aredian's torturous games in our dungeons as he interrogates sorcerer after sorcerer," the queen spat. "I can therefore pass you information, make it easier for you to help these people as much as I can."

Nimueh took a moment to take in what had been said before shaking her head vehemently, "no, no! It is far too dangerous; it is already bad enough that you know!"

"Nimueh, be reasonable! Without me, what more can you accomplish? Uther may not be so smart now, but eventually he will take new precautions, and I can guarantee they will be worse than the ones he claims as lenient."

"We will just have to work around them."

"How? What can you do when you are already struggling?" Ygraine takes a moment's pause before asking, "what would you have done if it had been Uther sitting here this evening? Because I can reassure you that he would not have hesitated to see you burn on the pyre - and I know you know that!"

Nimueh could not find the words with her queen staring at her so intently, waiting to hear what she believed she inevitably would. The sorceress, unfortunately, bowed to her beliefs with nothing to rebuke her with, "it is risky."

"It is a risk I am willing to make, as you have. Eventually the people will find out the truth, and you will need me on your side to help them see Uther for who he really is."

Nimueh grimaced, settling on an answer she already regretted.

"Unfortunately, Uther did begin to put the pieces together, and he became aware of the messages I sent to Balinor and Nimueh."

The birth had been difficult and long, and all Ygraine wanted to do was rest, but she could not take her eyes off the small bundle in her arms staring back up at her with her own eyes. Her fingers traced the skin on his face, remembering the touch as her other scents worked hard to create a vivid image of her new son in her mind. Uther leaned over her, his presence overbearing as usual, but even he could not make her angry when her son shuffled in her hold to get comfortable.

"He is beautiful," she whispered, more to herself than to the husband she was surprised could produce such a remarkable child.

"Yes," Uther replied, closer to her ear than she had expected. "You have finally borne me a splendid heir; you have served at least one purpose."

"At first, I did not understand the meaning behind his words, but when I realised my letters had been intercepted, I knew it was too late. Uther waited only a few days after your birth, when I was still weak and unable to fight; Nimueh had tried to protect me, but there was only so much she could do: eventually he had me cornered."

Uther padded over to where the small bundle slept soundly, and had he not lost his love for the woman he no longer saw as his wife, his thoughts may have wandered to how the boy with only wisps of hair resembled his mother. His eyes flicked over to the main bed which he shared with the traitor, who was draped in blankets after a difficult birth, worn out and sleeping as soundly as their new son. Had he felt anything but hatred towards his wife, he might have teared up at the scene of his new family, but his focus remained on the son he would raise alone. Leaning over the cot, he rubbed his finger gently over the boy's face, so deeply asleep that he barely flinched from the touch. Before Uther could do any more, however, a stern voice from behind caught his attention.

"You cannot leave him without a mother." The tone was fierce, but Uther had faced the wrath of his wife often enough to be unperturbed by the demand. It only caused him to stop his finger creating swirling patterns on Arthur's face as a hint of amusement entered his expression. A snide, cutting smile tugged his lips.

"Ygraine, my dear," he sighed, "you really should be resting."

Ygraine was weak, her knees shaking beneath her as they carried a weight they had not held in days, her whole body shivering without the strength it required. When Uther turned to greet her, he almost admired her attempts to stand tall, but the white knuckles gripping the banister of the bed betrayed her strength.

"Why are you so cruel? What is it you wish to gain from complete control? The people will not yield to a tyrant!"

"You are gullible and weak, and you will not speak to me in this way!"

"I am the queen. I will speak to you as I wish."

Uther laughed, "A queen who has been used by those with magic; they have lied to you, Ygraine dear. They have lied to make this kingdom weaker, to make us weak."

"You are the only liar I see," Ygraine tilted her chin high.

"You will show me some respect," Uther warned.

"Respect is earned."

Uther laughed, "and who has earned it, might I ask? Your magical friends? Nimueh?" the king's voice lowered, "Nimueh is a traitor to the throne."

"You will leave her alone," Ygraine gritted out. "She has committed no crime."

"She has committed plenty: she has laughed at our kingdom and she has blinded you."

"You cannot prove that without anyone questioning her claims of your crimes against sorcerers."

Uther grinned maliciously, "oh, Ygraine, the birth must be wreaking havoc on your ability to think. You are usually always one step ahead, as you say." Ygraine squinted, her hands twisting around the banister betraying her anxiety. "Nimueh will pay for a crime much worse than any she has committed."

Ygraine's eyes widened, "what will you do?"

Uther walked over slowly as the queen tried to back away, finding only a corner with no escape; the king bared his teeth like a predator finally singling out its prey, ready to pounce and enjoy the meal. "Your death will be mourned," he said when he stopped so their faces were almost touching, "but it will mark the beginning of many, many more, my love."

Before Ygraine could speak, could think to push away, his rough hands were wrapped around her throat in one swift movement. The queen's shock was overtaken by fear as her breath began to leave her lungs in sharp gasps, while she could take nothing in; her own hands weakly clasped at Uther's, nails trying to claw them off her neck, but without success.

The queen's gasps of air grew shorter and the panic began to dwindle, replaced with laborious efforts to just get something inside her lungs. Uther remained eerily calm as the lights around Ygraine's eyes became fuzzy and blurred, the room dimming before the world around her fell into darkness.

"I know this is a lot, son, but please, it is the truth you seek," Ygraine finished, her tears falling from the memory while Arthur stood speechless, mouth agape but with nothing escaping his lips. A fog appeared as he breathed rather shallowly, but he was too lost in the past to notice the cold falling over them. "Magic is not inherently evil, as you have been led to believe."

"Father… he-he killed you?" Arthur struggled, his words escaping so softly that he wondered if his mother had even heard them.

"He has killed so many, I was simply a casualty of the war he started."

"I am so sorry, If I had known-"

-"but you did not," she immediately stopped his guilt taking a hold, "and I hold nothing against you, Arthur. Uther raised you with the lie against magic, he is the one who blinded you; you could not know, and I have not told you the truth for you to bear the guilt your father should carry alone."

"And is he?"

"I do not know; our paths have not crossed. I can assure you, if they ever do, he will pay for what he has done to the kingdom, for what he has put you through."

"It really was all a lie, everything," Arthur whispered to himself with a sniff.

"Uther has weighed you down with these lies, Arthur, but you must know how proud I am of you still; you searched for the truth even though it has brought you to this, and I believe you will be an even greater king because of it." Ygraine's face falls back onto a motherly smile, a feature Arthur is not yet used to, and he is unsure he will ever get used to the memory.

"I wish I had known earlier."

"You know now; there is no evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of men."

"I know," Arthur ran a hand through his hair and stared at his mother's own, the thrill of seeing her, of acquainting himself with their similarities, attempting to overpower the weight of depression and guilt flowing through his soul.

"I have little time left, Arthur," Ygraine spoke with urgency, "but I have one thing left you must know."

Arthur blinked, shocked that there could be more information to carry with the rest of the baggage, "what more can there be?" he asked desperately.

Ygraine's smile slanted sympathetically, "I wish it were not so, I wish we had more time for something more pleasant, but you must listen."

Arthur swallowed a breath shakily before nodding, "I am."

"There is someone with the power to take your kingdom, someone you have grown with. If you are careful, just, and approach things with the knowledge you leave with today, you will rule over a united kingdom where magic will be free, as it once was; if you close your mind, Magic's Defender will have no choice but to protect their people and conquer your kingdom. Heed my words, son, I love you." Her voice faded as her body flickered, and he knew he had to leave.

Arthur stood dumbstruck, but managed to whisper, "I love you, too," before he turned away, finally able to move his stubborn feet. In the moment he was grateful that his mind was still ploughing along enough to remind him not to turn back, however hard he wished to do so; his mother's smile imprinted itself in his mind's eye, but the words she had spoken did their best to block the memory.

When he was clear of the stone circle, of the bright light of the gateway, Arthur became disoriented with the grass and the sky, the breeze hitting his skin so suddenly after there had been nothing but light surrounding him. His knees, already wobbling as he took hit after hit of news and warnings, finally gave in and he only became aware of falling when he was hitting the ground. Hands grabbed him around his shoulders, his name was being called, and he wondered if his mother had followed him through; Arthur closed his eyes, allowing himself to surrender to whoever seemed to be worrying over him.

Finally coming to, Arthur blinked himself awake, feeling something soft beneath his head. His eyes automatically flew to it, and his eyebrows fluttered down to shadow them when, at first, he could not place it. It took a moment for his brain to catch up, and when he realised whose jacket he had been using as a pillow, he sat up, perhaps too quickly; his vision went dizzy and his mind began to fog once more, but before it could cloud completely a figure came into view, holding his shoulder with one hand and a waterskin in the other.

"Drink," the man said, his tone suggesting he had given the instruction more than once. Arthur hummed, but took the waterskin, only just aware that Merlin kept his hand on it, too. It was just as well, as the king felt his whole body shaking. "It will wear off soon," Merlin said, either reading his thoughts or Arthur had simply said them aloud, and in this state, the latter was incredibly possible. "It's just the shock: it's bad for those with magic who have not practised the ritual, I can't imagine what it must be like for you, since you held on for quite a while." Arthur sat drinking silently, unable to fully comprehend what on earth Merlin was talking about, although that was hardly exclusive to this particular moment. "When you can, you should eat something. Are you feeling hungry?" Merlin asked, getting closer to his face with each question.

"Starving," Arthur sighed with more effort than was needed, but he was too tired to wonder why.

"I'll make you something," Merlin said after a moment, "just try and stay awake?" Arthur felt hazy and his eyelids were heavy, but the sound of Merlin's voice – an emotion he knew but could not quite figure out - made him nod as he made the promise. "You'll feel better soon, just stay awake."

~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~

It was afternoon when Arthur was only just beginning to become aware even a little, stretching his body against the grass in the secluded spot Merlin had found for them. "I don't usually do this, but I don't think you're in any particular state to be facing bandits or whatever comes our way," the warlock muttered as he was waving his arms around their camp in a circle. He had explained it to Arthur before, but that was when the man was barely aware of his name, let alone spells.

"Hm, good idea," he said, only to get used to speaking again. Merlin's raised eyebrow when he turned around suggested he knew Arthur was still recovering.

"Will you be alright here for the moment? I could take you home, back to Camelot. I'm sure I can keep my magic hidden for a while."

Arthur blinked, pulling his head to look at Merlin properly as he ran the idea through his mind which was screaming at him; there was something wrong, the idea was a bad one, but why was it a bad one? "No," he said, his voice more confused than decisive, "no. Too dangerous."

"Maybe."

"They know, they know I'm safe."

"Who?"

"The physician knows. And George. I told George I would be safe."

"George?"

"Don't talk to me about George," Arthur huffed, "he makes jokes about brass. He's certainly as dull as brass."

He heard Merlin chuckle under his breath, and he smiled, unsure why the warlock had laughed but glad to hear something other than panic. "Alright, Arthur, just focus on getting better. You can return to Camelot then."

~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~M~

The sun began to set, leaving the sky a beautiful purple hue, their secluded spot offering them the privacy Arthur needed to recuperate. Now fully awake, the memories of his mother's words returned all at once and Merlin had worried the king was beginning to fall ill again, but Arthur had tried to assure him it was nothing he could rectify. Unfortunately, this only made Merlin more concerned, and although the warlock stopped asking if he was alright, Arthur caught his furtive glances at him from the corner of his eye.

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Have you even eaten?"

The warlock shrugged, "a little."

Arthur's head rocked back on his shoulders, "then why don't you worry more about yourself than me, there is nothing you can do."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Merlin tried, but on receiving no response, he tried once more. "What happened at the stones?"

Arthur rolled his eyes in dismay, sighing, because Merlin was nothing if not persistent, and Arthur was nothing if not easily swayed by him. He rattled through everything in his brain, all the information he had processed in the last few days, in his whole life, and wondered how he could tell Merlin without revealing his own lie. "It was… odd, seeing my mother."

"Yeah, I can imagine. It must have been hard to walk away."

"Devastatingly." Arthur fiddled with his fingers, focusing his eyes on the ground as he lounged on the grass opposite from Merlin, separated by the fire warming his bones after they had chilled in the gateway.

"It must have been nice to see her though."

"Of course," a faint smile echoed on his face, and his mother's came into view, "it helped me remember her. I was only young when she died."

"Sometimes I forget my father," Merlin offered, "but I know his nature from others' memories; my mother told me all about him."

"My father never spoke of my mother." Arthur muttered, "now I understand why."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, making Arthur wonder how quietly he had spoken, questioning if he was still recovering from his ordeal.

"Nothing," he shook his head. Merlin was never one to be stopped when it came to soothing the king, however, and soon Arthur felt Merlin's jacket brush against his arm, the man huffing as he put himself down beside Arthur gently. Arthur turned to get a side glance of him, and Merlin hugged his knees as he focused his full stare at him. "I slept on that, didn't I?" Arthur frowned, pointing at the jacket.

"You did," Merlin nodded, "but we're not talking about that."

"Can't we?" he tried for his best charming smile, but Merlin's own morphed into exasperation, before his eyebrows rounded into something softer.

"If you don't want to say any more, it's fine. I'll be here anyway." Merlin said kindly with a tender kiss to Arthur's forehead, and the king felt the emotion tug at his heart. Arthur turned to look at him better now, staring at him for what felt like ages, but was probably only a few seconds, eyes searching for something, not sure what, though.

"Thank you, Merlin."

"Maybe we should get some sleep?"

"Merlin..." Arthur felt conflicted, felt his stomach knotting as he wanted to tell Merlin something, whether that be the truth from his mother, or his own truth. Merlin stared at him patiently with a concern that had come from his previous state, and Arthur wondered when he would stop acting like he was something fragile. "Merlin, the truth is, I knew my mother was alive during the war, because she was a casualty of it."

"What?"

"When you told me about what the Druids said, I had to know the truth. I was sure you were wrong; I was sure it was a vicious rumour. I didn't want to believe my mother had died on the wrong side."

"Arthur?" Merlin asked when the man paused for a moment. "What did you find?"

"Everything you said, it was true. It was all true." Merlin thankfully remained silent. "But I found out something else, too."

"What was it?"

"My mother died on the side of magic. She aided the rebels."