Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Chapter Thirty One

"You've done well, your majesty."

Arthur nodded a greeting at Arwen as she sat down beside him, her hair reflecting the light of the early morning sun.

"I could hardly do worse than I have in the past," he said darkly, then cringed, wishing he hadn't brought up his previous sins. To his relief, Arwen just smiled, and though Arthur could see grief in her eyes, he saw no anger.

"It took courage for you to come here. To face your mistakes instead of denying or hiding from them."

"It's difficult to deny or hide the damage done by Camelot's laws when I see it every day."

Arwen followed his gaze to where Merlin sat talking with a group of druids. It was adults this time, and although the stiffness of Merlin's back told Arthur some of the shyness and awkwardness had returned, his face was open and he seemed to laugh easily as he joked with them.

"Merlin was born to walk a difficult road," Arwen acknowledged, "and there is no doubt that his years in Camelot have contributed to that struggle."

"Why? I mean," Arthur quickly clarified, "I know why it was worse in Camelot. But why was he born to walk a difficult road to start with?"

She spoke slowly, her voice thoughtful. "Accomplishing great things is never easy, and you and he were destined for great things. Besides, he was born with more power than any man has ever known. That is a heavy responsibility. A lesser man would be overwhelmed by that much power. But his commitment to Albion and to you is strong enough to keep that power in check. I believe he would give it up in an instant if he thought it would help him fulfill his destiny."

"Yes, I believe he would," Arthur agreed, but her words filled him with an unexpected sense of regret.

Arwen looked at him shrewdly. "What troubles you, your majesty?"

"Nothing," Arthur said, trying to force a smile, but she raised an eyebrow skeptically, meeting his gaze until he looked away. "There are moments when part of me wishes we didn't have that destiny," he admitted. "Not that I don't want to accomplish those things. I just wish…" he paused for a moment to control the unexpected surge of emotion in his chest. "In the past, there have been times – usually right before a battle or in the midst of a crisis – when I've been nervous or full of doubt, and Merlin has said things to me. Encouraging things, about how one day I'll be a great king and how he believes in me. And I believed him. And now that I know about this whole destiny thing, and more to the point, that he knows about this destiny…"

He trailed off, expecting Arwen to finish the thought for him, but the woman just waited, her gaze patient.

"I wish he believed in me because he believed in me, not because he knows my destiny," he finished finally. "I wish Merlin stayed with me because he looked at me and saw someone worth serving. And even apart from that, I wish I was going to bring back magic because it's the right thing to do. Not just because I'm destined to."

To his surprise, Arwen looked amused at his words. "You believe destiny is a fixed road?"

He blinked in surprise. "Isn't it? You said yourself that Emrys was destined to be my friend and ally."

Arwen looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded to the other side of the camp. "Where do you think Mari is going?" she asked suddenly, looking at the little girl curiously. Arthur followed her gaze.

"Looks like she's headed over to Merlin," he said, glancing at Arwen in confusion. "Bringing him breakfast, by the looks of it."

"And why do you say that?"

Arthur shrugged. "Because that's the direction she's walking, and she's carrying a bowl of food. And she's looking at him. Besides, she's hardly left his side since yesterday."

"All very true," Arwen agreed. "Now that you've said that, does she have to do it? Has she no choice in the matter?"

Arthur stared at Arwen for a moment, then laughed. "No," he admitted. "No, she could do anything she wanted."

"Indeed. Just because someone can read the signs of what will likely be true of the future doesn't mean the future is set. And it certainly doesn't mean you have no choice."

They watched as Mari plopped down at Merlin's feet, then began eating the food in the bowl herself, and both of them laughed.

"Well, I was partly right," Arthur said ruefully.

"There are many prophecies, your majesty. And many of them contradict each other, pointing to different possible futures. Some come from genuine seers and some are simply made up, but all are fluid. Merlin could have chosen to walk away from his destiny; indeed, he would have, had he not judged you worthy. The dragon may have meddled to set him on this path, but no man will follow long in a destiny he doesn't believe in. And you could have chosen to reject Merlin when you found out the truth. Did you accept him only because you felt destiny demanded you must?"

"No," Arthur answered immediately. "Honestly, I didn't even really think all that much about destiny at the time. Well, I thought some about what you said about Merlin – about who he is. But not about what destiny said we would do."

Arwen smiled at him. "As it should be. I told you I have a sensitivity to the prophecies and the world around me. I believe, Arthur Pendragon, that your destiny contains great things. Not because you must do great things, but because I see the direction you are walking. And it gives me hope."

The first part of the ride back to Camelot passed in silence, each of the men lost in their own thoughts. Lancelot was bursting with curiosity to know what Arwen had said to each of them, but he sensed the conversations had been intensely personal. And although he hoped they would share – especially Merlin, since they had gone in pursuit of answers for him – he would not pressure them until they were ready.

Arthur apparently had no such compunctions. About an hour in, he broke the silence by asking, "So, Merlin. What did she say?"

Lancelot gave him an exasperated look, but Arthur just shrugged, although he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

Fortunately, Merlin laughed in response. "A lot of things. That I'm magic incarnate, but fully human. That I'm as corrupted by magic as I'm going to get." The laughter disappeared, and he grew more guarded. "That I'm not a monster, but I could become one, if I let myself."

It took a minute for that to sink in, but before either Lancelot or Arthur could respond, Merlin tensed and looked over his shoulder. "We need to go," he said abruptly. "Quickly. Now."

Lancelot took one look at the alarm on Merlin's face and decided to save his questions. Arthur must have felt the same, because he broke his horse into a run without another word.

Merlin slowed some several minutes later, but insisted they keep a brisker pace than normal for the rest of the day. He shared more about what Arwen had told him, as did Arthur, but he spent the day tense. He looked around frequently, his face tight and anxious.

"We have to stop," Arthur finally insisted. "It's getting too dark to ride, and the horses need rest."

Merlin conceded, although he didn't look happy about it. As soon as they dismounted, he insisted on setting enchantments around the area, and he refused to let them light a fire despite the cool temperature.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked curiously as Merlin muttered strange words, his eyes lighting up again and again.

"Just small things to keep us hidden. But not too much – it'll backfire if the area feels too strongly of magic."

"Hidden from what?" Lancelot asked, and the apprehension on Merlin's face intensified.

"I sensed magic earlier," he explained. "And I think they might have followed us. It feels different from most magic. Wilder, and uncontained. And I've felt it before."

Lancelot felt a chill go through him at the look on Merlin's face.

"Where before?" Arthur asked uneasily.

"The Deilen."

Lancelot shared an alarmed look with the king. "Their magic feels different from other magic? I didn't know that happened."

Merlin's jaw tensed as he stared out into the fading evening. "They're…unusual. According to our research, they're rather experimental with their magic, and I think that's why it feels different."

"Experimental?" Lancelot repeated, and Arthur huffed.

"Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" he muttered. "The only thing better than a sorcerer is an experimental sorcerer."

Merlin gave him a sharp look, and Arthur's eyes widened as he realized what he said.

"I don't mean you!" he insisted. "I…forgot. But obviously I don't mean you."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "You forgot? That I'm a sorcerer?"

Arthur looked away in embarrassment. "For a minute," he muttered, and to Lancelot's relief, Merlin laughed.

"You forgot," he repeated softly, shaking his head in amusement. Then his face grew serious again. "You still don't think highly of sorcerers in general though, do you?"

It took Arthur a few seconds to answer. "I still tend to associate them with enemies," he admitted. "I'm still learning to separate those into two separate ideas. But I'm trying."

Merlin nodded, and apparently decided to let the subject drop. He turned his attention back to Lancelot. "Every time I've been around the Deilen, I've felt that type of magic. It's very distinctive."

"So they have a large number and they're powerful," Lancelot said with a frown.

"Not exactly," Merlin mused slowly. "Some are more powerful than others. I sensed very little power in Arven, for instance."

"Arven?" Arthur asked. "That man who said there were two prophecies?"

"That's the one," Merlin confirmed.

"He was Deilen?"

"Definitely. I could feel the magic the moment I walked in the room."

Arthur threw up his hands in exasperation. "And you didn't tell me he was a sorcerer?"

"How was I supposed to tell you?" Merlin argued. "I had no proof, and I couldn't very well say that I sensed it with my own magic!"

Arthur huffed, but pressed on. "So he wasn't powerful. But obviously that sorceress in the courtyard was."

"Actually, no," Merlin corrected him, and Lancelot and Arthur shared a shocked look.

"She literally brought the entirety of the citadel to its knees," Arthur pointed out incredulously.

"She wasn't weak," Merlin conceded. "She did have a fair amount of power. But she was more skilled than powerful. I think that's where their real strength lies – not in raw power, but in their refining and honing of that power. Precise skills combined with pushing the limits of traditional magic. They don't need raw power to be a powerful enemy."

"Great," Arthur sighed.

"But they still backed down from you," Lancelot pointed out, and Merlin smiled, although he looked troubled.

"I'm more powerful," he confirmed. "But their strength is my weakness. I have plenty of raw power, but I haven't spent much time turning those powers into skills. I could take them in a fight if I had to, but I don't like the idea of being blindsided by them in the middle of the night." He looked around uneasily and pulled his jacket tighter around him. "They're definitely close. I don't think they'll find us through the protections I set up, but I'd suggest we get back to Camelot as quickly as we can tomorrow.

Arthur cursed softly. "I had hoped they would leave us alone after that last run-in."

"Maybe they still will, Lancelot suggested.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed. "Maybe they will."

But Lancelot noticed he didn't relax again until they were back within Camelot's walls the next day.