Merlin was frozen where he stood, inexplicably unable to decide whether he appreciated what Arthur had said or not.
Arthur looked back at Merlin with this bright, genuine smile, a smile that made the corners of Merlin's mouth tug to the sides of his face instinctively and force a smile that he hoped looked real enough to appease Arthur before he was able to sort out the storm of emotions that had just erupted inside his chest.
Arthur was jeopardizing his credibility as a King, not to mention putting essentially everyone close to the King under scrutiny by the townsfolk that would likely not be welcomed with open arms in the interest of making it so that Merlin wouldn't be arrested for being careless about something he'd always had to hide. This progress felt wrong somehow, even though he knew it was right. It was sudden, and assertive, not allowing for discussion around the round table nor the ability to slowly break the news that sorcerers were not as evil as previously assumed.
As Merlin's fake smile stayed present on his face, he guided Arthur quickly to his chambers. This conversation needed to happen now. This was no time for a hunt - this was time for anyone close to the King with even an ounce of magic in them to leave before this turned bad. Merlin knew all too well from his experiences traveling with Gaius that people tended to flip flop between two extremes. If someone went too quickly from one extreme to the other, the resistance would be stronger than it would have been with a gradual transition and the citizens of Camelot would likely be no exception to this rule.
Once the doors were tightly shut and all the guards in the hallway had been dismissed, Merlin's facade dropped. "What were you thinking?"
Arthur was taken aback by Merlin's sudden change in demeanor. He'd seemed happy, and shouldn't he be? He didn't have to fear being burned at the stake anymore. Arthur had just put himself on the line for Merlin and Merlin seemed entirely either ungrateful or unaware.
"I'm sorry, what did I do wrong here? Did I not just alleviate the fears of every sorcerer in Camelot - including you, for that matter - about being burnt at the stake? I mean, I didn't do this for recognition, but it would be nice for you to even bat an eye at how hard that was for me."
Merlin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Arthur while I appreciate your intentions, being burned at the stake isn't the only reason they- we are afraid. The citizens of Camelot don't like us. They think we're violent, heartless, brainwashing people set out to destroy Camelot. Do you know what doubt you've likely just instilled in them that you're not being controlled, or even besides that, do you know how much you've probably just divided Camelot? People will think you're allied with the enemy, or they'll feel safe until their fellow citizens take it upon themselves to hunt sorcerers. You've weakened us, Arthur, despite your best intentions. Your grand gestures are an admiral part of your character, but your judgement on when they are appropriate could use some work."
Arthur blinked, then blinked again. He hadn't thought of this. All he'd been thinking of was protecting Merlin, when in reality he did the opposite, and further disadvantaged the Kingdom he as King was supposed to protect. Merlin was right. The announcement was a mistake. Oh, how going back in time felt like the most wonderful idea in the world at that point.
"I need to go." Merlin said. "With Gwaine, since he already knew. And maybe a few sorcerers, if it's easy enough to find them. I can't be seen with you too much now, that'll make me a target and by association, Winona as well. She'll stay here, as Court Physician - she's ready, I know she is - but I need to go. I'm sorry. Please don't blame yourself for making a mistake, I understand it and it was an honest one. Just, maybe consult me next time?" The last line was half-joking, but he couldn't really chuckle all that much while he hurried out of Arthur's chambers to go and pack a bag.
Morgana had been hidden away in the palace nearly every moment since she returned to Camelot. She couldn't escape the hate-filled glares of women whose sons were killed in battle, or brothers whose other half was murdered by one of Morgana's men. Where she had been able to hold up a wall blocking out the gaze of those begging for mercy from her when she was committed to her plot for the crown, every name, every face now haunted her nightmares, and even the bracelet her dear sister had given her couldn't block them out.
She spent her nights avoiding the nightmares by delivering pastries and herbs she'd cooked or gathered herself in little wicker baskets to the front doors of those she knew she had wronged. She never included any indication of her identity - it wasn't an apology, she wasn't ready to face those she hurt face-to-face yet - it was a gift she wanted them to appreciate as if it had been from a stranger.
When Arthur announced he was lifting the ban on magic, the glares got worse, the threats of violence slipped under her door more frequent. By now she didn't read them as she had at first, just tossed them into the fire with shaky hands. She was a villain, she knew. She would never escape the shadow of her past, however many wicker baskets she delivered.
When she heard Merlin was leaving, she knew it was her chance. Her chance to truly apologize to Gwaine, and Merlin, and everyone else that might go too. She'd hurt far too many people in her life, and however much she might take their insults and aggressive glances personally, she would never fight back.
She could never fight again after her last fight ended in a massacre.