Chapter Two

It had been the decision of a moment. A flash of inspiration.

So Arthur had said it and then sat back, stunned and a little elated at his own audacity.

The king was no stranger to a good bluff. He had often bluffed in the face of his enemies, showing them more strength than he actually possessed in order to intimidate them, to slow them down for the one second more that he or his allies needed to take action. The best bluffs took advantage of an opponent's fears or weaknesses. A perfect bluff could not only buy time but in fact avert the enemy altogether.

He remembered the fear that had gleamed in his sister's eyes when her magic fled her. If she attributed that fluke to Emrys, and better yet, if Emrys were truly responsible for hobbling Morgana, then claiming this sorcerer as an active participant in the protection of Camelot was a mighty good bluff indeed.

It had also been downright enjoyable watching his father's councilmen turn apoplectic over his announcement. His court had reacted exactly as Arthur expected them to, exactly as Arthur had hoped they would.

And yet Arthur found himself feeling increasingly uneasy as night approached, his optimism cooling with the setting of the sun.

Conversation over dinner had been stilted; Guinevere, wanting to be supportive of her husband, had not known quite what to say. Neither did Arthur press her for an opinion. He knew how this looked, how uncharacteristic his actions had been, and that she must be thinking what the rest of the court was - that the king had lost his mind, or worse, been enchanted.

He told himself that was good. With even the queen doubting his decisions, there were none who would suspect he was actually lying.

It did not stop him from feeling guilty for lying to his wife.

He was glad he had at least told Merlin. Over the years, Arthur's idiot manservant had turned out to be an excellent confidant. He had seen Arthur at his most vulnerable, again and again, and not once had gossip followed.

The man was also stupidly loyal. Sure, he would whine and complain about it, loudly and incessantly, but if Arthur decided to have a tea party in a dragon's belly, Merlin would be there holding the kettle.

So it wouldn't matter if Merlin knew the truth; if Arthur asked, his manservant would even take that knowledge with him to the grave.

The prospect of fooling the Five Kingdoms into believing he had a powerful sorcerer ally had so occupied his mind that it was only now as he readied for bed that another worry began to settle in his thoughts, like tangling gossamer. Incidentally, it was the first idea that Merlin had caught onto, idiot though he was.

"What do you expect Emrys will think of all this?"

When Roland, the sorcerer, said that Emrys existed in Camelot, Arthur had believed him. Even without the incident during Morgana's last invasion of Camelot, something deep in Arthur's gut simply knew it to be true. As he told Berys, magic was hard defeated except by magic, and yet Arthur and his knights had prevailed time and again against powerful magical threats, seemingly without any reason for their victory but the gods' good fortune.

Emrys existed. There was a sorcerer, a very powerful one, revered by the Druids - protecting Camelot.

"Why?" Arthur muttered, gnawing on his thumb nail and staring into the shadowed courtyard below his window.

"What's that?" said Merlin, who was in the process of turning down the royal blankets.

"Why would a sorcerer want to protect Camelot?"

"Are you thinking about Emrys?" There was a tremor of worry in Merlin's voice. Of course there would be. The young man was spooked by anything magical. Arthur wouldn't be surprised if Merlin lost sleep tonight imagining sorcerers under his bed. The idea made the king smirk.

Arthur turned around, rolling his eyes. "Unless you know of another sorcerer protecting Camelot, then yes, I mean Emrys."

"Prat," muttered Merlin.

"Well? Any thoughts, oh wise one?"

"Your sarcasm is making it difficult to concentrate," retorted the manservant.

"I'm sorry," said Arthur. "I forgot you haven't the ability to both think and fluff pillows at the same time."

"But that isn't the extent of my tasks, sire," said Merlin, raising his brows emphatically. "I'm constantly having to flatter you, coddle your self esteem, and be on guard against flying goblets." He ducked, and a split second later a metal goblet clanged against the wall behind him. Then he grinned. "See that? I doubt Your Majesty could do half so good a job at multitasking."

Arthur cracked his knuckles. "I did ask you a question."

"Was that question for me? I thought it was, how do you say… rhetorical."

"Fancy words again, Merlin?"

"Rhetorical is hardly a fancy word. Although, then again, it may be for you."

"Merlin."

Merlin smiled impishly. "What was the question?"

"Why do you think a sorcerer would protect Camelot?"

Arthur's manservant stopped everything he was doing and cupped his chin in one hand. Frowning, he said, "Well, he must have a reason."

"No, really?" Arthur gasped facetiously. "You think so?"

"I mean," and here, Merlin turned his back on the king of the land with utter impropriety and returned to turning down the blankets, "Camelot is not the most friendly place for magic users. King Uther would have ordered a manhunt for this Emrys and tried to burn him at the stake."

"Magic is illegal in Camelot."

Merlin bobbed his head. "Yes."

"If Emrys is as all-powerful as Roland claims him to be, he could have led an attack against Camelot, overthrown the crown and enslaved its people. He would have had motive."

"Yes," Merlin agreed, nodding. "If his motivation for acting was revenge."

"Would he not fight for the rights of other sorcerers?"

"If he does, he clearly does not agree with Morgana's methods of doing so."

Arthur mulled this over, chewing his lip. He whirled around to face Merlin. "But magic is-"

"Evil?"

"It corrupts all who use it!"

"Except for the Druids," Merlin pointed out. "Magic is a part of their culture, but they believe in peace."

"They practice the Old Religion. That isn't the same. Not every Druid has magic."

"But the Old Religion is magic, Arthur. They worship the Triple Goddess, who is the mother of all magic. Without magic, they would not be Druids. So how can all magic be evil but the Druids not be? Why haven't they been corrupted?"

"Merlin," warned Arthur quietly.

"You asked me to help you towards an answer. I assumed you wanted me to be the devil's advocate. Besides, I'm simply stating facts. Is that a crime?"

Arthur sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "No. You're right. I'm seeking the truth of things, and I can't blame the truth if it makes me uncomfortable."

When the king looked up, it was to see his manservant grinning at him. "What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," said Merlin. "It's only that Your Majesty said something very wise."

"Don't act so shocked."

"So…?" prompted Merlin.

"So?"

"Do you really think all magic, with no exceptions, must be evil and corrupt all who use it?"

That was the official royal stance. It was the reasoning behind the Purge and the still-active ban against magic in the kingdom. It was the excuse behind the hundreds - the thousands - who had been killed in the past thirty years for their associations with magic, with no mercy and no exceptions.

And then Arthur had made a promise to the spirit of a young Druid boy, that he would avenge the lad's death and give the Druid people the respect they deserved. It was why the Druids were now camping in the Forest of Ascetir to the east, having lived there for the past year in an uneasy truce with the kingdom.

"Perhaps it is something in their culture, because outside of the Druids, I have not met a good sorcerer."

"You must admit, most of the sorcerers who have come into the open in Camelot have sought revenge against the crown. I imagine the good ones are all hiding in fear for their lives."

There it was. "So you believe in good sorcerers." Amazing. Merlin, terrified of magic, thought it might sometimes be good. Then again, Merlin was enamored of things like unicorns, and those were also magic.

Merlin glanced up at the king and clasped his hands. He swallowed. "Sire, if I'm being honest, I think sorcerers are just people, and I don't believe people can be entirely good or evil. You give a man a sword, he can either use it to kill or to protect, and maybe he does both at different times and for different reasons. If you think of magic in the same way, like a tool or a weapon, maybe it follows the same reasoning."

"Do you think Emrys is one of them? A good sorcerer?"

Merlin frowned. "Well. Apparently he protects Camelot. So, ask yourself, is Camelot good? If so, it would follow that he is good as well."

"And what if he is not? What if he helps us to have us beholden in his debt?"

"If he wanted something, why help Camelot in secret?"

"Merlin, do you think this Emrys could be good?"

The young man hesitated for a second, opening and closing his mouth around his response. Then he said, "I do. But maybe I am just selfish. Camelot is my home, and if he really is protecting it, I can only believe he is good. Even if he has magic."

Arthur sighed and leaned against the window, crossing his arms. "And yet, we're no closer to the answer as to why he would help Camelot."

Merlin shrugged. He was done with the bed and angled for the door. "Maybe for the same reason your other subjects follow you."

Arthur stared at him expectantly.

Merlin rolled his eyes and smiled. "Because we believe in you, you clotpole."

"Go to bed, you useless manservant."

"Goodnight, sire."

The door closed behind Merlin, and the king was left alone. He took off his shirt, tossed it on the floor, and lay down in the bed Merlin had just prepared for him. He had forgotten to dampen the candles, but that was Merlin's job, so Arthur would just let them melt to puddles and blame his manservant come morning.

He stared at the canopy over his bed.

"So he does want something from me," the king mused.

And though he had laughed at the idea of Merlin cowering away from magicians hiding in the broom cupboard, Arthur was gripped with disquiet at the notion that, somewhere out there in the night, perhaps even within the walls of the citadel, there was a formidable sorcerer with an uncanny interest in Camelot.

Sleep would be a long time coming.

Gaius stood up from his workbench as soon as Merlin slunk through the door, exclaiming, "Merlin!"

"Hi, Gaius…"

"What is going on? Does Arthur know about you?"

Merlin let his head fall back and sighed extravagantly. "No. Once again, something completely idiotic is unfolding in Camelot, and as usual, it's going to be my job to hold all the pieces together."

"Tell me, boy."

"Can't I have dinner first?" A sternly raised eyebrow answered that question. "Fine." Merlin slumped onto a bench at the table and cradled his head in his hands, rubbing his thumbs against the ache in his temples.

"So. Arthur does not know I'm Emrys. He hasn't a clue who is. He didn't even know about Emrys except for what Morgana said last time we fought her. This whole thing, apparently, is a bluff against Morgana, except it's not a bluff, because Emrys actually is protecting Camelot. The bluff is that the Once and Future King and Emrys are now in open alliance with one another. But, long story short, this is all some stupid ploy of Arthur's to keep Morgana out of Camelot. Yes, he jumped all over the idea of allying with Emrys as soon as he heard he was 'Morgana's Bane'."

Merlin shook his head, fuming. "He asked me tonight whether or not I thought Emrys might be a good sorcerer. You can't believe how much I just wanted to scream at him - "It's me! I'm Emrys!""

"You must be careful, Merlin," said Gaius, sitting down across from his ward. He was shaken by the development and not as young as he once was; his arms trembled as they lowered him onto the bench. "If Arthur learns you are Emrys, he may react badly, giving Morgana her best opportunity to attack."

"He's declared Emrys his ally. Don't you think he will expect Emrys to contact him?"

"Emrys," said Gaius, "is a legendary figure of immense power, shrouded in mystery, face known to none but a small number of Druids. Emrys need not do anything but what he has been doing. Let Arthur be disappointed."

"You're right," Merlin said. He buried his head in his arms.

"There may yet be a time to tell him," said Gaius, reading his ward's disappointment. "But first, let us see how this situation develops before you make a decision that can never be undone."

A/N: I almost hated to use the sword analogy again to describe magic. It's overdone but - it's just so apt. And Arthur will have a decent response to that analogy later on...

Thanks to: emrysmorgan, Fatvbirhd, RebeccaRosewood, CrystalFire, Dee, TTGG03, Eryndil, MerlynPotter, mersan123, TheStuffOfFandoms, Vi-Violence, Foxprints, Anna3002, Lovesickheroreader, Gingeraffealene, Ordalie Gwynfyd, and Manateesrock33 for your reviews of Chapter 1, and to everyone who added this story to your alerts!

Next time: we begin to see some of the repercussions of Arthur's bluff (or "No Take-Backsies, Arthur")