Sorry for the delay, I got distracted by lambing and new books. Thank you to those who have reviewed my work, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Has ever, I don't own Merlin.
Chapter 3:
"I-I-I'm a warlock," said Merlin, fear, and pain making his voice tremble. His left leg was crumpled in an unnatural position and he was in agony every time he breathed, definitely a broken rib, there were probably some severe internal injuries as well but he'd have to trust his magic to heal those.
"You're a what?"
"A warlock. I was born...I was born with magic."
"That's impossible." Said Arthur in a dismissive tone: this was going against everything Arthur knew about magic which admittedly wasn't very much but magic had to be learned, the practitioner needed to want it, it wasn't just something people were born with.
"And yet here I am. I was able to move objects before I could walk and talk, I could light fires with a wave of my hand before I was four years old, and I've got my wings, of course, they were a blessing from the fates. But I've only ever used my magic in Camelot for you, to protect you." Merlin's voice was pleading, almost begging Arthur to believe him and despite his instincts, Arthur lowered his sword slightly but kept it pointed at Merlin's chest and took a small step backward.
"What do you mean? Why would you?" How had Merlin been protecting him, why would he? After all, Arthur had killed so many magic users on his father's orders.
"Because you are the once and future king, you are destined to unite Albion and above all," Merlin's voice was growing weaker by the second, his injuries from the fall would probably have been fatal if he'd been mortal. "Above all, Arthur you are my greatest friend, you may be an arrogant ass and a clot pole at times but I could not wish for a better friend and it has been a pleasure to serve you."
At that, salty tears pricked at the corners of Arthur's eyes but he could not let his emotions show. "Damn it, Merlin, how do I know if anything you say is true? You've lied to me for years, why should I trust you?"
"I can't answer that sire, just know that I would never do anything to hurt you" The use of his title made Arthur snap out of his anger. That word said with respect and admiration when Merlin usually said it in jest was enough for him to realize the terror and anguish in Merlin's eyes. He dropped his sword, it fell to the ground with a dull thud.
"Why….Why didn't you tell me?"
Silent tears were dripping down Merlin's cheeks, "I was too scared, I thought you would have me executed or banished, I thought you would hate me. I thought…I thought you'd react as your father would do"
"Oh Merlin, I could never hate you, I am not my father. But magic, it is evil, I've seen what it can do" Arthur's voice was strained with the effort of trying not to cry. He suddenly became more aware of Merlin, aware enough to sense the pain in his words was more than just emotional, enough to realize that Merlin was injured. His enormous, feathered wings had vanished though Arthur could not pinpoint exactly when that had happened. Merlin was barely sitting upright and his eyes were half-closed.
Arthur rushed to his friend's side (yes, friend. Whatever Merlin was, whatever he had done, he was still Arthur's friend. The picture of evil Arthur had always associated didn't fit with his image of Merlin as the gentle, kind person he had always been so he pushed it to the back of his mind for now. They could deal with that later. For the time being and until Merlin was in a fit state to tell him more, he'd just have to deal with this revelation on his own.)
"Where are you hurt?" Even as he asked, Arthur realized it was a stupid question. Merlin clearly had a broken leg and he wouldn't be surprised if there were many other injuries Merlin had sustained during their tumble through the air. "Also what happened to your wings?"
"I...I..I can summon them when I need them, and make them disappear when I don't" Merlin replied as Arthur studied his leg. He watched the Prince warily, not fully trusting his apparent acceptance of Merlin's magic.
Arthur was half-listening as he looked for a strong enough stick to act as a splint for Merlin's leg. He found one and carefully came to Merlin's side. There were no bandages to bind his leg so Arthur tugged at the edge of his tunic and tore it into long strips.
"Merlin, this is going to hurt," He said as he examined where Merlin's leg was broken.
"Just do what needs to be done," Merin replied through gritted teeth. The physical pain was immense but it was overshadowed by the emotional turmoil in Merlin's mind: he still didn't quite know what Arthur was going to do.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur swiftly moved the two pieces of Merlin's leg bone back together. Merlin screamed, an agonized, demoralizing sound, and collapsed into an unconscious heap on the forest floor.
I'd like to thank my brilliant friend thatdamfangirl23 who has created some incredible art for this story. I want her to know that I really appreciate it and all that you do for me. You are an amazing friend, clotpole, and cabbage head, and you are definitely ineffable.