Description

What if Arthur had figured out Merlin has magic earlier? What if doubts and suspicions rose? What if the prince became more and more distant, while Merlin tried to understand whatever it was bothering Arthur? With suspicion, the friendship that was strong could crumble easily, and without a friend there to help, trouble can increase. A lot.

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Prologue

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"Who did that?!" He asked, staring hard at the two standing in front of him.

Merlin and William had been standing next to each other when the wind had appeared out of nowhere. There must have been magic involved for sure, but the question that kept on repeating in Arthur's head was…Who had magic? Who had used magic?

Both of them were looking at him without any sign of fear showing, as if neither knew that magic had been used, or that he was a fool who'd fail to see there had been magic in use.

Instead of answering him, like the question hadn't been understood by him, Merlin said, "What?"

While he usually didn't mind how Merlin could be so ignorant of what is going on, it made him even angrier, emotion levels increasing by the second.

Confusion at who exactly had used magic. Anger at the one that dared use magic in Camelot. And…the last he could identify as fear.

He dismissed that last one as made up.

Having seen the evil magic used so many times, he went ahead to make things clear to the two suspects. "Wind like that doesn't just appear from nowhere!"

"I know magic when I see it." He said while slowing down his breathing, his energy already been used to fight, the remaining strength he had left used on that leader of the enemy they faced.

Taking another breath, and looking at them, he continued. "One of you made that happen."

Glancing at Merlin, then William, then repeating the process, he started thinking that the possibility of William to be a sorcerer was more than likely, seeing as how Merlin was the last one he'd ever imagine to be a sorcerer, he focused his glare more on William.

Neither of the two were meeting his glare, which only made him more agitated, tension in the air rising with each passing moment.

"Arthur…" He turned to Merlin, who appeared as if he had something to say, something important to say, which made his insides feel like they were being stabbed again and again at the sudden feeling of betrayal that increased when he saw how Merlin was not showing much of any emotion, as if he was going to confess something Arthur himself would be furious about. The voice Merlin had used was calming, low and quiet, like he was hoping in making things better by getting him to calm down.

This was magic they were talking about! How could he remain calm?!

So, his glare remained, hand on sword tightening slightly, ready for another fight, searching for any strength he could muster up. Anger fuelling his strength. And while he may still be breathing heavily, he would make sure the sorcerer wouldn't take another breath, the voice of his father haunting him, telling him to end the sorcerer that had dared used magic, in his presence no less.

He had to make the sorcerer, William or Merlin, pay, and his father would want nothing less than for the sorcerer to be dead.

A life had to be taken. And that thought only made his insides churn even more.

There were two things he wanted more than anything. One was to make his father proud, something he wished to do more than anything. The second was to have the people trust him, and to have their loyalty. But the latter would not happen if the first thing he wished was to happen.

And making his father proud was, at the moment, something that seemed to be the only option that made sense.

His father had told him, again and again, that magic was evil, and he knew this by heart, knew that anyone using magic in Camelot was doomed, and was to be killed as soon as possible for having used such evil.

He waited for an explanation, a confession, a reasoning, and excuse, something, anything, but was not able to hear of anything Merlin had to say because of a shout from William. "Look out!"

A push his way made him stumble to the left, something he would never allow had he still have the strength to keep such a weak push to move him from his place. But once he turned to see what happened, his ears having picked up on the woosh of something passing close by, he was more than shocked at what he saw.

"Will!" Merlin yelled, quickly going to help his friend, all the while Arthur tried processing what just happened.

An arrow struck. A friend in need of help.

That was all he needed to know, any thought of magic or sorcery blocked as he instantly found himself in front of William, wanting to help, not knowing how he could help someone who had been struck with an arrow on the chest.

He had saved him.

After spouting all that about hating royalty, saying he should leave, saying he was the one to blame for a villager – something he agreed and hated himself for – William had saved his life.

That leader had not died after he had stabbed him, and that was his fault. He was the one to blame for – it was because of him that someone was going to – blood was going to be on his hands – this was his fault – he should've-

The pained sounds coming from him broke him out of his thoughts, and, after seeing the arrow actually was really there, he said what shocked him so much. "You saved my life."

"Yeah-Didn't know what I was thinking."

…

Once they were inside, the wounded on the table, a confession was made about the use of magic.

But what made it so confusing to Arthur was how Merlin tried stopping William from saying anything at the beginning, like it was not the right thing to do.

While it all appeared to be normal reactions under the circumstances, there was something off too. True, a friend would want the other safe and not known for a criminal act. But what was the point of stopping someone when they were dying…?

Was there even the slightest chance that…Merlin…of all people, could have magic?

After being asked whether he was going to kill said person, he glanced at Merlin, and knew that even if that were true, even if such an absurd fact was true, there was no way he'd want any friend of his killed simply because it was the law.

His father would be disappointed if he had ever spoken his thoughts aloud.

He had looked at Merlin so many times after that, not knowing what to believe, so many questions filling his head about the person he would admit to being his friend.

One last look, and he was out the door with Morgana and Guinevere, leaving two friends to make peace.

…

Giving his condolences, he stood next to Merlin, staring at the flames burning brighter, turning everything into ash, the fire holding beautiful colours, yet it was contrast to the extent of harm it could do.

To bury away his suspicions about Merlin, to be at ease when around the one friend he had, he asked whether what he was going to say to him before was about William being a sorcerer.

The question and the answer had far too long of a pause between them. The pause of silence made him feel sick.