Chapter 5

It was a few days after Merlin left and Arthur stormed from the castle after his first magical class with Gaius, Viviana and the knights. He walked straight past Leon without acknowledging his First Knight's attempts to waylay him, without even noticing him at all, really. His mind was occupied with one thought and one thought alone, leaving no room for any outside influences.

Merlin is a sorcerer. Merlin is a Dragonlord. Merlin is Emrys, Merlin is King of the Druids, Merlin is the most powerful warlock to walk the face of the earth. His father, Uther, was a liar and murderer of thousands of innocent people. The purge was a cover for his father's pride and anger.

It was constantly repeating, the words echoing through his head and running together until it was just a blur of anger and betrayal and disbelief and hurt. Arthur had hidden this turmoil before Merlin had left, but now it was bubbling over and he had to get away. He did not hear Leon call his name and he did not stop until he was deep in the woods, far away from the source of his distress.

Merlin, magic, his lying father was a murderer. He could not seem to reconcile anything in his mind, could not even wrap his head around the concept. Merlin is a sorcerer. His father had lied about magic and killed thousands of innocents. Morgana was supposed to be his ally. All this death and destruction could have been avoided!

Arthur drew his sword from its scabbard with a growl and drove it into the trunk of the closest tree with all his might. It stuck there and he had to fight to free it again, nearly losing his footing entirely as he pulled it loose with a jerk. He threw himself into hacking at the tree, mindless of the damage it would likely do to his precious sword, until his undershirt was soaked through with sweat. Blisters were beginning to appear on his fingers and his arms were trembling from the strain. Then he gave the tree one more vicious strike just for good measure.

The burn in his overworked muscles was not enough to wipe his thoughts from his head like he had hoped. He stuck the tip of his sword into the ground and left it quivering there as he slumped at the base of his target.

Merlin had not been lying, nor had he made the whole thing up as some sort of sick joke. Viviana had revealed the truth. Merlin could have a bit of a dark sense of humor at times and Viviana was a resurrected being. Merlin had been distraught when Viviana had revealed his magic, his identity and his Dragonlord powers. Arthur knew he understood none of those terms in their reality or fullness. He was unable to bear the snarl of emotions that it brought up in him.

Could he really be sure of anything anymore where Merlin was concerned? After so many years, a decade of near-constant companionship, Arthur had thought that he had known all there was to know about Merlin. Apparently, he didn't know anything at all.

Arthur remembered the way Merlin had looked just before he had left, the fear trepidation and smothered happiness that his secret was finally revealed. The relief that Arthur would not kill him. Another memory rose unbidden, one of his father putting a hand to Morgana's throat, backing her up against a chair and threatening her into submission.

This time, Arthur lost the battle against his nausea, and he rolled over to empty his stomach beside the abused tree. He had been horrified at his father's actions then. They had made him rethink his whole opinion of the man that he had so looked up to, that he had emulated. Arthur had thought his father's actions despicable, dishonorable, and unconscionable. And Arthur had vowed that he would never do something like that, no matter the provocation.

In many ways he had done worse, being so self-absorbed, calling Merlin an idiot, piling chores on him, putting him in the stocks, discounting his advice, throwing things at him. He had abused and taken Merlin for granted in so many ways.

Arthur had never given Merlin a reason to trust him with his greatest secret. Arthur had spewed hatred for magic just as Uther had done, he had beaten Merlin into the ground during several practices and then taunted him for being a weakling. Merlin had gone into battle without armor or weapon, and so many times, come out unscathed. Arthur realized Merlin would have had no problem defending himself with…with m… He couldn't even bring himself to think it, but the point remained. Merlin had never used his magic to hurt Arthur.

Guilt bubbled up through the tangle of emotions and Arthur pushed it down roughly. He had no reason to feel guilty, he told himself harshly. It was Merlin who should feel guilty, Merlin who had lied to him for eleven years about…about everything. Arthur had every right to be angry at a betrayal such as this. Finding a sorcerer hiding in his court in plain sight was not something that anyone could expect him to take lying down.

But his mind got stuck on the word "enemy." Viviana had clearly shown Merlin was not his enemy. It was hard to think of him as such, even now with so many dark secrets laid bare between them. Merlin had let the dragon live, the dragon that had slaughtered hundreds of his citizens, innocent people all of them. Surely that qualified him as an enemy, did it not? But then, the dragon had never troubled them again, just as Vivianna had shown. Arthur ran his fingers through his hair and tugged, hoping the pain would help focus his thoughts. It didn't.

Arthur couldn't quite believe it. Viviana's many projections were scattered in his brain. Merlin, sorcerer, liar, Dragonlord, enemy, traitor, Merlin. It didn't make sense, none of it did. How could Merlin have been hiding something like this for so long? He had never been a very good liar, or at least Arthur had thought that was the case. Arthur had lost track of how many times Merlin had been thrown in the stocks for failing to lie convincingly enough to Uther. He found it hard to believe that Merlin would have allowed that to happen so often if he could have avoided it.

And besides, if Merlin had been a sorcerer all that time, then Arthur would have noticed something, surely.

But with the dragon, hadn't Merlin attributed the triumph to Arthur himself in order to cover up his own involvement? His relief at the routing of the beast had been so overwhelming that Arthur had never questioned Merlin's words. Merlin had known that would be the case and he had taken advantage of Arthur's preoccupation to make sure that his lie would not be questioned too much. Could he not have made use of the same technique other times?

Arthur's mind was racing, skimming back over his memories, reviewing times when Merlin had used magic and diverted his attention, or out right lied to cover his involvement, often crediting Arthur or someone else with his success.

Merlin and Lancelot had been tasked with disabling the warning bell. But as Viviana had shown, they had not done so. Amazingly, they had borne no injuries to say that they had been intercepted by immortal warriors. The army had been destroyed, in a way that no one had ever satisfactorily explained until that day Viviana had first appeared. Morgause had been gravely injured, and Morgana had been forced to take her sister and flee in defeat. It had been Merlin, all of it.

With each subsequent review, with each experience to which hindsight lent its clearer perspective, Arthur's determination to think of Merlin as an enemy faltered and weakened. Time after time, Merlin had protected him or defended his kingdom against magical attack. It became painfully clear that Arthur could not justly think of Merlin as a threat to him, not after everything he had done for him. Merlin had drunk poison for him, and then had offered to do so again. He had taken out two immortal armies, any number of bandits and foot soldiers they had faced, and several magical beasts.

Arthur would have expected his sense of betrayal to lessen when he finally was forced to concede that Merlin's actions showed nothing but loyalty to him, but the dark bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach remained.

Merlin was but the latest in a long string of betrayals, of people who had lied to him over and over again. His father, his sister, his uncle, even his wife and his truest knight. And now Merlin, of all people. He wondered why it was that, of the numerous betrayals that he had suffered in his life, this one stung the worst.

Maybe because Merlin had been there at his side through all of the others, the one person of whom Arthur had always been sure, the one person whose honesty he had never doubted. He still found he could not doubt Merlin. Viviana had shown proof and his conscience was finally backing up truth he had refused to see.

And the worst part, Arthur realized, was that he didn't have the opportunity to interrogate Merlin, to berate him for his dishonesty, to force the truth out of him. But with the anger boiling in his blood and the hurt that made him want nothing more than to hide away and lick his wounds, Arthur screamed in frustration, beating the tree a few more times with his sword till he was finally exhausted.

Arthur knew that he had to get back to the castle before true dark fell. Otherwise he would risk his knights panicking and riding out in search of him and dragging him back. As the light began to fade, he stood tall, trying to pull his fragmented composure around himself by his posture alone. He could not ride after a sorcerer. Arthur sheathed his sword and strode determinedly off toward the castle, dreading the moment that he would reach it.

When he did, he was greeted by a very worried and disapproving Sir Leon. Leon was trying to hide his displeasure out of respect for his sovereign, but Arthur understood his upset and appreciated the space which he had very reluctantly been given. Leon had always been prone to worrying over him, from the time when he was just a young squire, eager to prove himself capable of standing on his own two feet, Leon had taken to hovering then, keeping a close eye on him to make sure he did not overexert and injure himself in his eagerness, or ride off to do something stupidly brave by himself.

At the time, Arthur had not been at all pleased with his attentions, but he had grown to appreciate them for what they were, which was honest concern for his well-being. Leon had been his friend long before Arthur had realized that fact.

"Arthur," Leon said, the familiarity of the address showing just how anxious he had been. "Is all well?"

Not really, no, Arthur wanted to reply. Things were most certainly not well at the moment, at least as far as his mental state was concerned. My manservant of the last eleven years is actually a Dragonlord and Emrys,... and has left for who knows how long.

Arthur caught sight of Gwaine and, of all people, Mordred. Arthur grimaced at Gwaine in a way that was probably supposed to be a smile.

"Arthur?" Leon said again.

Arthur snapped his attention back to his first knight. By now he had forgotten the question that he had been asked, so he waited for Leon to repeat it.

"Are you alright?"

Arthur cleared his throat, wanting to explain or at least reassure him in some way. Arthur still didn't know what to tell Leon; it was not the sort of thing he felt he could just blurt out."Maybe it is a conversation that is best left until morning," he said eventually, stalling for time.

Leon did not look satisfied in the least, but he knew when Arthur's tone brooked no argument and he wasn't one for defying authority, so he settled for a scowl and a jerky nod. He left Arthur alone, hoping to make the promised explanation come that much faster.

Arthur could feel the prickle of shame in his belly. He knew Merlin would eventually return and they could talk. Merlin had promised he would answer his questions and they could hash out the past. The study time with Gaius and Viviana would have to suffice for now. He was just hoping Merlin would forgive him all the horrors he and his father had interred on his family and himself. Arthur certainly wouldn't be forgiving were he in Merlin's place. But then again, Merlin had always been a far more forgiving man than he had been.

His Pendragon anger spiked through him again, directed in equal parts at Merlin and at himself. Why was he thinking of seeking Merlin's forgiveness when according to Uther, Merlin was the one in the wrong? Arthur was the maligned party here, not Merlin, and as such he should be the one whose forgiveness was being sought. Merlin was the one who had been breaking the law, who had been practicing sorcery in a kingdom which expressly forebode it. Merlin had not even had the forthrightness to inform his king of that fact.

And maybe that was what stung him the most. If he was wholly honest with himself, it wasn't the magic or the illegality of it that bothered him most. It was the fact that Merlin had never told him willingly about his magic. Arthur had opened up to Merlin, had told Merlin things that he had never spoken of with anyone else, his doubts, his fears, his insecurities, his guilt. Yet eleven years had not been enough to convince Merlin of his trustworthiness in return. In that time, had he not shown himself to be a more reasonable man than his father?

The thought of his father, of his harsh treatment of all things magic and Arthur's own reflexive imitation of it, plagued him once more, making his stomach twist. Gwaine was glaring daggers at him from across the hall and Arthur could not help but think that he deserved Gwaine's contempt.

Gwaine smirked, "It is about time you gave Merlin a break with all he does for you."

"What? Did you know he had magic?" Arthur asked wih narrowed eyes.

"No, but I have suspected something since we met in the tavern, all those flying plates, and other times when we have escaped unscathed because bandits dropped their swords, or a not so rotten branch fell on them."

Arthur shook his head pressing his lips together in frustration. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner.

Percival just smiled at Arthur's quandery, knowingit would pass. He only slapped him gently on the shoulder before he walked to his quarters.

Mordred already knew what had happened, of course, so Arthur did not need to worry about being harassed by any of them.

"Well Princess, I must agree you have been blind." Gwaine said.

Arthur chuckled humorlessly and rubbed at his face. He had been doing that a lot lately; the skin there felt raw and sensitive from how often he had scrubbed his hands over it.

"How can I possibly fix this, Gwaine?" he asked bleakly.

Gwaine smiled. "I have no idea. But, I am glad you are aware enough to have your guilt torment you after what you have put Merlin through." Gwaine smirked, "You are lucky Gwen is waiting for you."

It was much later that his wife soothed Arthur some, but he was finding himself resenting Viviana for sending Merlin away. Arthur hated him, Merlin had left home, he was going to take on his evil sister; good luck with that.