AN regarding site issues: I've gotten multiple messages over the past few weeks about people being unable to access certain chapters of this fic. It seems to vary from person to person and from chapter to chapter – the link won't work for some, but works just fine for others. (TBH, I'm selfishly hoping this accounts at least a little bit for the steep drop-off in reviews since this problem began.) Unfortunately, this is a site issue, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. However, this story IS also posted on AO3 under the same name and author, so if you encounter this issue, you can find the latest chapter there. (Note: chapters 20 and 21 are combined there, so the chapter numbering is off by one.) If you don't want to read it on AO3, it does seem like the broken link issue is generally temporary for most people, so if you check back a day or two later, it should work. I'm really sorry about this. I hate that it's happening, and believe me, I would fix it if I could. :*(
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Thirty Three
"I think we should go on a hunt, sire," Leon suggested, earning him some sideways glances from others at the round table. "Instead of waiting for Maelor to try to draw you out, I mean. Rhian said he was creating a plan, but she also said he would be looking for opportunities. A hunt would allow us to choose the time and the place for the encounter. If he takes the bait, the attack would occur on our terms. If we wait for his move, he'll have some kind of plan in place to separate you from Merlin."
Merlin had to admit it made sense, despite the temptation of the "Arthur never leaves the citadel again" option.
"I could disguise myself or stay hidden," Merlin thought aloud. "They'd think you were unprotected."
"And then what?" Elyan asked, and Merlin froze.
The answer seemed obvious until it was on his lips.
And then I'll kill them.
What would the knights say to such a callous response?
"I showed them mercy once before," he said instead, his voice quiet. "If they attack again, they do so knowing the consequences."
He could see his answer disturbed them, particularly Percival and Elyan. Leon looked resolute, but his expression didn't entirely mask the fear Merlin saw spark in his eyes.
Merlin's gaze moved to Arthur. At the end of the day, his reaction was the one that mattered the most, but Arthur was unreadable as he stared at the table.
"Merlin is right," he agreed after a long minute. "They know what they're risking. If they attack again, we do what we must."
He said "we," but they all knew he meant Merlin.
Arthur took a couple of steps into Gaius's chambers, wincing as he closed the door behind him.
"Sire?" Gaius asked with concern, standing quickly.
"I'm fine," Arthur waved him off. "Just took a solid hit to the ribs in training today. I was hoping you might have something for the pain?"
"Certainly." Gaius headed to a shelf and shuffled through the bottles, looking for the right one. "You should let me take a look as well."
"Of course," Arthur agreed. "Did Merlin tell you about Rhian?" he asked conversationally, pulling off his tunic and sitting on the patient's cot. He already knew the answer; he had learned Merlin rarely kept secrets from Gaius about these sorts of things. He relied too heavily on his guardian's guidance.
"He did, sire. It sounds like a confrontation is inevitable?"
"Yes," Arthur said, drumming his fingers against the cot restlessly. "And it will be Merlin against all of them. I mean, we'll be there with our swords, but if they all have magic…"
"Merlin will be fine," Gaius reassured him with a knowing smile. "After all, didn't they flee from him before? And from what I understand, there were more of them that time, not to mention Merlin was dead on his feet."
"True. And he's working on finding a counterspell for that thing Rhian used to freeze us, in case they use that again. We need to be able to fight as well, if needed."
"If needed," Gaius agreed, focusing on poking and examining the bruise blossoming on Arthur's side.
Focusing on it a bit too much, perhaps.
"What is it, Gaius? Something's troubling you."
Gaius paused for a moment, and Arthur could see him struggling before he finally sat up and faced the king.
"I'm not sure what you should expect, sire," he admitted. "Merlin has performed magic frequently since the day he arrived in Camelot, but always within the confines of secrecy. He has always had to operate within certain limits or risk exposure. And now, going into this battle with you and the knights, all of whom know about his secret, out of sight of the people of Camelot…"
"You're not sure what he's capable of," Arthur concluded, and Gaius frowned.
"I'm not worried about what he will do, but I am worried about what manner of reaction he might receive. I know none of the knights have treated him poorly since learning of his magic, but Merlin believes they are still wary of him."
"And if he frightens them, he'll turn it around into some of that self-loathing and self-doubt that we've spent months trying to break him of," Arthur realized, rolling his eyes.
"Truthfully, sire," Gaius hedged, "I'm concerned about your reaction as well."
Arthur sat up straighter in surprise. "What?"
"You do much better with abstract discussions of magic than you do with actually seeing it." Gaius sounded almost apologetic. "I know you mean well and you try not to react, and you handle it much better than you used to. But this will be violent magic, not simple tricks for cleaning your chambers. You haven't seen Merlin perform this kind of magic before. And he sees it when you're afraid of him."
"I'm not afraid of him," Arthur insisted, then immediately felt irritated with himself when he heard the petulance in his voice.
It was true though. He wasn't.
"Just be aware," Gaius advised. "There's more at risk in this than your safety from the Deilen."
Arthur was quiet that night. He ignored Merlin's attempts to make conversation and joke with him as he helped him prepare for bed, until eventually Merlin resorted to straight-up insults.
"I'm just saying, it's a good thing nightshirts are made to fit loosely, because otherwise those would be going to tailor to be let out too."
"Hmm," Arthur said, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Take them to the tailor if you need to."
"Okay, enough." Merlin gave him the sternest look he could manage. "I made a fat joke and you didn't even threaten me. What is going on with you?"
Arthur blinked and looked at him as though he had just realized Merlin was there. "Sorry," he apologized absently. "I was just thinking."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
Arthur made a face Merlin recognized. It meant he was trying to figure out something unpleasant. "No. But I think I'm going to anyway."
Merlin looked at him in confusion.
"I want to ask you something. About magic. About when we meet the Deilen."
Merlin went still. He and Arthur could discuss magic pretty comfortably at this point, but Arthur's nervousness was contagious.
"What is it?" he prompted when Arthur didn't continue.
"I'm not sure how to ask this exactly, but…how do you plan to kill them?"
Merlin wasn't expecting that.
"I mean, when we fight, I know what we use," Arthur explained. "We use swords and crossbows and our fists. I have some idea of what to expect from a battle. But this will be different." Arthur paused and looked down at his feet. "Don't judge me too harshly, but I'd like to be prepared for whatever is going to happen."
Merlin cleared his throat nervously and looked away for a moment. When he looked back, he found Arthur staring at him, waiting.
"I won't judge you if you don't judge me." It was supposed to be a joke, but it came out uncertain and nervous. Arthur responded with a single nod. "I don't honestly know," he said, folding his arms as he thought. "I don't usually plan it out in advance. I just react to whatever is happening."
"Have you been in many battles? Not just ones where you're hiding behind trees sneaking spells in, but ones where you're out in the open, actually fighting against another sorcerer?"
Merlin shook his head. "Not many," he admitted, and he saw Arthur's brow furrow in alarm. "I'm not scared," he hurried to say. "I know I'm powerful enough to handle it. But it hasn't happened enough times for there to be a normal, if you know what I mean. You have certain fighting moves you favor – even I can tell that. But I don't necessarily have favorite fighting moves. I just…do what needs to be done."
Arthur nodded, but Merlin could tell he was troubled.
"You're still scared of me," Merlin realized, trying to hide the guilt and disappointment he felt at that thought.
"I'm not," Arthur denied immediately, but Merlin shook his head.
"You don't want to be. But you are."
Arthur sighed and looked away. "I trust you, Merlin. With my life. With the lives of my men."
"But that doesn't stop you from being scared."
Arthur didn't argue, and that was answer enough.
Guilt and frustration welled up in Arthur as he took in the look on Merlin's face. He wanted Merlin's words not to be true. He wanted not to be scared. Logically, he knew he shouldn't be scared. Not of Merlin.
But magic…even after all he had seen in recent months, that fear still lived deep inside him, a weed he couldn't seem to uproot.
"I can defend nearly any threat," he said finally. "I can defend myself and Camelot from physical danger and political danger. I can win a battle or sign a peace treaty. But magic…I have no way to answer that. And it's hard to look at a power I can't fight and not fear the possibilities."
"But you can answer a magical threat," Merlin said immediately, an unexpected smile crossing his face.
"How?" Arthur asked helplessly.
"I am your answer to that, Arthur. You don't win a battle by yourself; you win with an army. And you don't win a fight against magic by yourself. You win with me."
Arthur stared at him, considering his words. "I'm not sure it's that simple, Merlin."
"It is that simple," he answered firmly. His smile disappeared as he turned solemn. "You just have to trust me. Arthur, the purpose of my magic is to help you. To help Camelot. You are my king, and I swear to you, I will always protect you."
I swear to you. Merlin wasn't just using it as a turn of phrase. It was an oath. And to Arthur's surprise, he felt himself moved by it. He didn't think he could get words out through the roughness in his throat, so he settled for meeting Merlin's gaze and nodding his acceptance.
And just like that night in the castle of the ancient kings, Merlin nodded back, a single, resolute movement.
Arthur lay in bed after Merlin left, reflecting on what he had said. The words themselves merited thinking about, but Merlin's reaction was worth its own consideration.
He had called Arthur out on being afraid, and then he hadn't hidden in response. He hadn't taken a step back into wallowing, questioning whether Arthur was right and whether he might be evil. He had answered with pride.
I am your answer to that.
There was something comforting, almost peaceful, about seeing that pride in Merlin. That was how it should be. How he should be. Not questioning if his magic would corrupt him or wallowing in shame and doubt about his abilities.
He was Emrys. His magic was a part of him. And maybe, finally, Merlin was learning not to fear that.
Now Arthur just needed to learn as well.