Step 8: Discredit the Idea of Having Magic

Ideally, following the previous 7 steps will prevent anyone from discovering your magical secret. However, if your life as a magician is anything like my very long, very unfair life, things usually don't go according to plan.

That's not to say there's nothing you can do. There are preventative steps you can take to prepare yourself for the day that Lady Luck pauses tormenting me for a moment and chooses you as her substitute punching bag.

The best thing you can do to prepare for this day is to make the idea that you'd ever have magic so laughable, that they consider every other possible option than you. For example, let's imagine that the village bully has singled you out again, but instead of ignoring him, this time you hex him to only speak in gibberish. When he drags you to the court and accuses you (in a perfectly intelligible language, since I'm assuming you're at least moderately proficient in magic at this point), the magistrate will laugh. "This bloke, using magic? Yeah, and the stable boy is the King!". They will search for other explanations, "This bully, he's always been a bit slow. Must have knocked his head one too many times". Or "There must be a witch controlling this poor idiot hiding in the woods, send out the knights!"

I've been in a situation like this before and believe me, with an air tight reputation of bad luck, honesty, and general ineptitude, you will be just fine...

Merlin lowered his hands, hoping the gold had faded from his eyes. From the look on Arthur's face, it hadn't.

"Arthur...I can explain" Merlin started, but before he could continue, Arthur had a sword pointed at his neck.

"What...have you...done?" Arthur strained, his eyes cold and sharp.

"I...Arthur..." Merlin stammered. He tried to think. Clearly Arthur wasn't okay with the whole magic thing. Even though they'd known each other for years at this point. Hurtful, but not unexpected. So he had to make up an excuse...except Arthur had literally seen him throw one of Morgana's warriors across the forest.

"Don't even...just shut up" Arthur snapped.

Merlin froze. He had thought so many times of this moment. He'd imagined telling Arthur himself and his reactions ranging from reluctantly accepting to attempted executions. But actually facing the reality of Arthur turning on him, after everything they'd been through...Merlin wasn't sure he could handle it.

"Let. Him. Go" Arthur kicked Merlin's knees, forcing him to the ground in an ungainly heap.

What? Let him go? Was Merlin's hearing damaged? Had the prat finally been hit in the head too many times?

"How dare you. How dare you wear his face! Where is Merlin? What have you done with him?"

Merlin froze again, but this time for a different reason. He literally did magic in front of Arthur and Arthur assumed that he was actually a sorcerer wearing Merlin's face. This was...Merlin could work with this.

He started to chuckle, trying to capture the essence of Dragoon. "Very astute, young Pendragon".

He batted away Excalibur, waving threateningly at Arthur when he moved to intercept him, "Don't even try it. If you hurt me, you'll never see Merlin again".

"You're either very brave or very stupid" Arthur was earily calm, like the sea before a storm. But he lowered the point of the sword towards the ground.

"Good choice" Merlin brushed himself off as an excuse to buy some time to think. They'd been tracking down an artifact of interest for five days and were almost to it's hidden location (at least where it should be according to Gaius's records). It was meant to be a three day journey, but Morgana's men were around every corner they turned. Not to mention her ally sorcerers who wanted to acquire the artifact for her or themselves, who even knew at that point.

They needed to get there before she could. He didn't have time to go on a side quest to rescue himself from himself. So he needed to convince Arthur to trust fake-him long enough to get to the castle. And given the opposition thus far, it would be incredibly helpful if he could use his magic openly.

"I've been called both but accept neither". Merlin used his best Dragoon voice, making sure to stoop a little bit more, as if he'd been found out and reverted back to his original mannerisms. "What I do accept is that you're a dunder-head that requires supervision to walk outside the castle. And needs to learn how to collect firewood".

"Wait a minute" Arthur narrowed his eyes, looking at Merlin closely. His eyes widened comically, "I know that voice! You're Dragoon!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, "Of course I am! Who else would it be?"

Arthur sheathed his sword, "Why on Earth would you take the place of Merlin? Have you not tormented my family enough?"

Merlin-Dragoon just harrumphed, "You nobels, always thinking everything is about you. I've been Merlin for three days and you only noticed when I threw one of the witch's warriors in your face".

"I...something was off but I just thought...well he's been odd lately" Arthur stuttered. "That makes sense. The stew tasted particularly horrible over the past three days. Merlin may be mostly useless but he does know how to cook".

Merlin preened for a moment before remembering he wasn't supposed to be Merlin, but Dragoon the Great, who would be very offended by the insult to his cooking, "Oi, when you're a hundred years old, then you can insult my cooking. Until then, keep your opinions to yourself you overgrown monkey!"

Arthur frowned, hand reaching towards his sword again, "Why did you say you were here?"

Merlin-Dragoon frowned, "I didn't! Keep up! You young people, always stuck in your own little worlds. Not everything is about you, you know! As it so happens, I was here to talk to...Gwaine. But I happened to save your life while I was at it, so I believe I'm owed thanks".

Arthur glared at him, "I owe you thanks? When you've stolen and replaced my manservant and used dark magic?"

Merlin-Dragoon huffed. "Very well. Just take me to young Gwaine and I'll return your floppy-eared manservant".

Arthur snorted, but gestured toward where Merlin knew the knights were setting up camp, "I've seen your true form, you know. You're not exactly lacking in the ear department".

"Haha. But just remember young knight..."

"King" Arthur interjected.

"...the witless use insults to cover the witlessness of their own wit".

Even though Merlin thought that was rather clever, Arthur just glared at him even more. He shrugged. There was just no pleasing him sometimes.

They stumbled through the brush, taking a path Merlin was sure Arthur chose to try to throw him off of their location. Or maybe just to make him trip and fall on his face. Either was a distinct possibility. But they finally arrived at a small clearing, filled with the knights and their horses and their many pointy swords, knives, and other things they could use to kill Merlin if they knew the truth. Thank the gods for his own less than threatening reputation.

"Gentlemen, it appears we have been deceived" Arthur announced, his confidence back now that he was surrounded by his own familiar men. Merlin snorted to himself. If he'd just found out that Arthur had been replaced by a frenemy sorcerer, he would question whether every one of his men had been replaced or not.

"You're kidding me. If we trekked through the rain and the mud for five days only for this magic thingamajig..."

"Gauntlet of invincibility" Mordred helpfully added.

"...As I said, thingamajig" Gwaine glared at Mordred. Merlin always knew he liked Gwaine. "Only for it to not be in the ruins of Castle Durough, I'm going to find the nearest tavern and I'll meet the rest of you back in Camelot at the end of rainy season".

"Calm down Gwaine, we're headed in the right direction" Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, it seems our beloved soupmaker Merlin has been replaced by a sorcerer".

The knights scrambled to their feet, drawing their swords (or in Percival's case, grabbing an unfortunate squirrel that happened to be searching for food near his sword).

"Relax, relax. You young men, so excitable" Merlin-Dragoon griped, stretching. "He's safe and warm in those ruins you lads are headed to ever so slowly. Though, I do rather like this form. Less back aches, among other things".

Percival gasped and pointed at him, "It's you! The old sorcerer! Arthur, get away from him!"

Merlin-Dragoon plastered his best sneer on his face, "Percival. Rude as ever, I see. Didn't learn your lesson from your brief time as a stepping stool? No? Pity".

Gwaine levelled his sword at his throat, eyes flashing dangerously, "He'd better be exactly the way you found him".

Merlin-Dragoon sniffed as if offended, "He smells a great bit better, I reckon. I had to give him my freshly laundered robes in exchange for these smelly garments for my disguise".

Arthur raised one eyebrow and gestured at Gwaine, "Well, I brought you to him. Now state your business and return Merlin".

"Patience is a virtue, young knight" He ignored Arthur's muttered correction and continued, "Anyways, this was only the first step. I require an escort and I thought the gentlemen who were so kind as to help me onto my horse last time would be the perfect fit!"

Percival raised one eyebrow while Elyan fingered his sword.

"This is a great honor for you witless potatoes! Arthur, tell your men to stop being ridiculous and escort me to the ruins. Only then will I return your manservant".

Arthur glared at him, "They are my men, and it would behoove you to remember that. And you still haven't stated your purpose. Frankly, I'm not inclined to grant your request".

Merlin-Dragoon drew himself up, letting magic flow through him. His eyes turned golden as his backs straightened, looking every bit the Emyrs the druids spoke of. "I think there's been a grave misunderstanding, child. My purpose is my own. My business is my own. I require an escort, which your men will provide".

He allowed the wind to whip through the trees, purposefully spooking the horses (just a bit, he liked those horses after all). The knights tugged at their red cloaks, trying to block out the wind and extract their swords.

"I am a sorcerer, older than the lot of you put together. Morgana herself fears me. It would behoove you to remember that". He let the wind die down around him, but kept his eyes golden. "Your three men will accompany me to Castle Durough to acquire the Gauntlet of Invincibility. You will do so not because I asked, not because this artifact was mine long before anyone else could claim it, but because unless you do, I will not be inclined to return your Merlin in one piece".

The knights stood awkwardly, torn between attacking him and the knowledge that they couldn't. At least Merlin thought they wouldn't. Merlin had rode with them for years now. They wouldn't abandon him to the grasp of an enemy sorcerer for the sake of an artifact. He didn't think.

Finally, Arthur sighed and removed his hand from his hilt. "Gwaine, Percival, Elyan. Take the old man to his prize. Make sure he returns Merlin unharmed" Arthur glared at Merlin-Dragoon at the last part. He nodded solemnly in return.

The knights gathered their things, glaring at him but prepping Merlin's horse for Merlin-Dragoon to ride. As he rode off with three of his best friends to rescue himself, he allowed himself a small smile. He hadn't been sure, but...Arthur gave up an artifact for him. The King may be self centered and a royal prat, but he cared. And for Merlin, that was enough.

And maybe, someday, when he told Arthur the truth, he would trust him. If the King of Camelot could deem a servant greater than a magical artifact, maybe he could accept a sorcerer as his friend.

Though maybe Merlin should think about writing a book. Clearly he had this whole hiding-magic thing down.

Acknowledgements:

I hope this book has been helpful for all you aspiring magic users. The making of this book has been at times a nightmare, but that's more due to the fact that my life is a nightmare. The writing was the easiest part of the whole process.

I hope as fervently as you, dear readers, for the day that Uther's laws will be repealed and this book will not be necessary. That day of Albion is coming, I promise. However, in the meantime, keep your heads down and stay safe.

There are a few individuals that require special thanks:

To Gaius, who after his initial reaction of throwing my first draft into the fire, helped with distribution and editing. Also, without him, I would be dead.

To Lancelot, may he rest easy in the hall of heroes.

To Gwen, who will never read this book but is a spectacular friend and keen ally. It's a miracle she hasn't discovered my secret yet. I blame Arthur's influence.

To the knights of Camelot. Idiots, but good men and good friends. The making of this book wouldn't have been possible without them, particularly Step 2.

Finally, to Arthur. My friend. My King. May he reign in obliviousness forever.