Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Twenty Two
Merlin
Things we know:
-Merlin is a creature of magic (whatever that means).
-Merlin is destined to be the most powerful sorcerer of all time.
-The druids call Merlin 'Emrys.'
-The druids think Merlin is some kind of symbol of hope.
-Merlin was born with magic.
-Merlin is destined to protect Arthur and help him fulfill his destiny (greatest king Camelot has ever known, unite Albion, restore magic. No pressure there).
-Merlin and Arthur are two sides of a coin.
Things that might be true:
-Prophecy from temple wall: Born of the magic of water, which runs through his blood. Born of the magic of earth, which stands in his bones. Born of the magic of air, which flows through his breath. Born of the magic of fire, which burns through his will. The magic of the world lives in him and through him, and in and through no other.
-Merlin is the only one of his kind.
Things that are not true:
-Merlin is a monster.
-Merlin is destined to abandon Arthur.
-Merlin is destined to be overcome by darkness.
-Merlin's mercy will be Arthur's downfall.
Arthur finished reading the list aloud, tapping his quill against it. In between Merlin's chores and Arthur's duties, Merlin had spent the past several days telling him stories about the parts of his life he'd kept hidden, including what he had learned from Kilgharrah and others about Emrys. There was, surprisingly, relatively little actual information in it all about who and what Emrys – or Merlin – was.
Arthur was quickly realizing that when he'd said they'd figure this out together, he might have underestimated the task. And as the two men had conversation after conversation, he was growing all-too-familiar with the dark look that took over Merlin's eyes when he contemplated his own nature. Arthur wasn't just learning new information about Merlin; he was seeing a side of him he'd never seen before. Inside his ridiculous servant lived a man who was powerful and tortured and afraid.
Arthur had always secretly believed Merlin must not be scared of anything. He had been wrong.
"You should add 'magic inevitably corrupts,'" Merlin said from where he sat on Arthur's bed, folding clean clothes. Sitting on the king's bed to fold clothes was an entirely inappropriate thing for a servant to do, but Merlin had only hesitated for a moment before plopping down and getting to work.
Thank the gods.
Arthur never would have guessed how annoying and uncomfortable it would be for Merlin to be respectful all the time. It was driving him mad. But with each day, more of that shell of formality and nervousness seemed to crack and peel away, and Arthur caught glimpses of the same old Merlin hiding behind it. Today had been an exceptionally good day so far.
"I'll put that under 'things that are not true,' shall I?"
Merlin's mouth tightened. "You should put it under things we don't know. Because as much as we both may want it not to be true, we don't actually know that for sure."
Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but as much as he hated to admit it, Merlin wasn't entirely wrong. Scowling, he wrote it down in the middle section.
"Another thing for us to ask Kilgharrah when I meet him," he muttered under his breath.
"You still want to do that?" Merlin asked skeptically.
"Why wouldn't I?"
Merlin smirked a bit. "Because every time you mention it, you look a little sick. You shouldn't feel bad about being scared, sire. He's sixty feet long. And he breathes fire."
Arthur threw a glove at him – the only thing he had close at hand – but it faltered midair and landed on the ground between them. "I'm not scared," he insisted as Merlin tried to stifle his laughter. As a general rule, he didn't like to admit to being afraid of something unless Merlin admitted fear of it first. And Merlin was annoyingly unfazed about going to see his friend the dragon.
"I want to meet him," he insisted. "Besides, he may be the only one who can give us answers."
Merlin snorted. "Kilgharrah might have a lot of knowledge, but just a warning – he's usually pretty useless when it comes to answers."
Arthur frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means he's great at using a lot of words without actually saying much. Don't get your hopes up."
"I'm sure he can answer a few questions," Arthur persisted, and Merlin shrugged.
"Don't say I didn't warn you."
Arthur rolled his eyes, then he sat back in his chair and watched Merlin for a moment. "Could you do that with magic?"
"Do what?"
"The clothes."
"Not with the king in the room."
"And without the king?"
"Yes." Merlin hesitated, and for a moment Arthur thought he was going to say more than that. But Merlin just closed his mouth and continued folding.
"I haven't actually seen it yet, you know."
Merlin's hands stilled for a moment and his face grew serious, much more like the moody Merlin that Arthur had seen so much of recently instead of the Merlin who had laughed at him moments ago. "You've seen sorcerers perform magic before, sire" he said, resuming his folding. "You know what it looks like."
"Sure, when it's in the form of an attack. I know what it's like to be thrown or frozen or choked. But I don't usually see nonviolent magic. If I weren't here, what would you do?"
"Exactly what I'm doing now," Merlin answered immediately. "You never know who might walk in."
"Fine. If you didn't have to be afraid, what would you do?" Merlin glanced at him warily. "Come on. I want to see."
Merlin scowled. "Laundry," he muttered. "I finally get to show off, and he wants to see laundry."
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Well, what would you want to do?"
"I don't know! Something with lightning or earthquakes or something!"
Lightning or earthquakes?
Lightning or earthquakes?
"Or laundry," Merlin said in a hushed voice, and Arthur realized Merlin's eyes had gone wide with alarm as he took in the look on Arthur's face. "Let's do laundry."
Arthur forced a smile. "Yes, let's start with laundry. We can do…earthquakes…another time."
Merlin nodded, but he eyed Arthur uncertainly. "You really want me to do magic? In front of the king? It is illegal, you know. You're ordering me to break the law."
"Quit stalling, Merlin."
With a sigh, Merlin folded the last shirt and set it down on the bed. He looked across the room at the wardrobe and, after one last nervous look at Arthur, said, "Inbringe cume mec!"
Arthur almost missed the magic itself because he was so distracted by Merlin's eyes. He'd seen that fire in sorcerers' eyes before, always right before something terrible happened. His stomach dropped, and he quickly had to school his features into something more neutral.
Then he noticed the doors of the wardrobe had flown open, the drawers pulled out, and the clothes were neatly tucking themselves into place. Once the clothes settled in, the drawers closed again, and the doors shut after them.
Arthur stared at the wardrobe for several seconds. It was a simple thing. Just putting away laundry. And yet, it required more mental processing than he expected. The abstract idea of Merlin having magic had been surprisingly easy to come to terms with. Seeing it in action was considerably more shocking.
Arthur turned to look back at Merlin. His friend sat up straight on the bed, watching Arthur's reaction unblinkingly. Arthur could see the fear in his eyes and in the tension of his shoulders, but he couldn't help feeling pleased when he noticed the way Merlin lifted his chin defiantly.
"That's good to see," he said, nodding at Merlin, who looked confused in response.
"My magic?"
"The look on your face." Arthur stood up and stretched. He needed to get going or he would be late for training. "You're proud of what you can do. I hadn't seen that before." He shoved Merlin's head playfully as he walked past on his way to the table where his armor was laid out. The action didn't feel entirely natural, but it didn't feel awkward either.
Merlin followed him, a small smile on his face. "Sometimes," he admitted.
"You've asked me whether I'm afraid of you," Arthur said, lifting his arms so Merlin could put his breastplate on. "Are you afraid of you?"
The smile faded. "Sometimes."
"I thought as much." Arthur wasn't sure what he could say to change that, so he settled for clasping Merlin's shoulder reassuringly for a moment before Merlin moved on to the rest of his armor.
"You were afraid of me a minute ago." Merlin glanced briefly at Arthur's face. "I saw it."
Arthur wished he could deny it. "It unnerved me," he admitted quietly. "More than I expected it to. I have some things to unlearn, Merlin. It's not you I fear, though."
"It's magic."
Arthur nodded. "I've seen it do so much evil. Thinking of it as something neutral or good is a big adjustment for me."
"But I am magic," Merlin reminded him with a bitter smile. "So you do fear me."
Arthur hated Merlin's logic, mostly because he couldn't figure out how to argue with it. He scowled, trying to come up with the right answer.
"I don't," he said finally. "I can't justify it. I just know, whatever I fear – it isn't you, Merlin. I guess I just need a little more exposure so that it doesn't shock me as much. I'll get there."
He saw in Merlin's eyes that he didn't believe him, but Arthur spoke the truth. He was not afraid of his friend.