(A/N: Epilogue! Or, the one in which Merlin is Superman and Arthur is Jimmy Olsen. Or is Merlin actually Kim Possible and Arthur is Ron Stopabble? You decide.
Here's the comfort to the hurt/comfort you've all been waiting for! Just wanted to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for sticking with this fic-and with me! I really appreciate it and it's exciting to mark this as finished :) Some updates in the bottom notes about what's next from me in the Merlin fandom, if anyone's curious. I also will be going back and responding to any comments I haven't gotten to!
QUICK NOTE-I might be adding on a bonus chapter to this with the trial/execution/epilogue events from Merlin's POV. I've gotten a few requests for that, and I did write a little bit from Merlin's POV before scrapping it to focus in on Arthur's POV. However, I'd love to explore it from Merlin's eyes! So keep an eye out for that bonus chap, but I'm marking this as complete for now. Also, I am considering a sequel to this. More thoughts on that in the end notes!
Thank you guys again SO MUCH and happy reading!)
Arthur awoke to an intruder in his bedchambers.
It was not the first time he had awoken to an intruder, but usually those intruders were human. This intruder was a bird, and it was perched on the back of Arthur's desk chair, busy cleaning its grey wings. It stopped as soon as Arthur awoke, but it merely looked at the prince in defiance, as if declaring, "Yeah, I live here now. What're you gonna do about it?"
For a moment, Arthur and the bird stared at each other, as if neither one quite knew what move to make next.
Then the bird squawked and Arthur bolted upright.
"Merlin!" Arthur screeched without thought, scrunching up his pillow and chucking it at the bird. He missed, and the bird didn't seem fazed, remaining on the back of Arthur's chair and probably ruining the artisan wood with its claws. "Merlin, did you forget to close the bloody window? What's this bird doing in here?"
Arthur's cry reverberated around the room, but it went unanswered. That annoyed Arthur even more, thinking Merlin was running late, but then, with a jolt, he remembered.
Ah, Arthur realised with a pang of guilt, and the events of the previous day slowly returned to him in a terrible rush. That's right. I almost had him executed.
Emphasis on almost. Through the view of his open window, the branches of Merlin's magical oak tree stretched out to the morning sky in the courtyard. The lush leaves were already harbouring songbirds. Arthur himself must have forgotten to close the window the previous night, having been too tired after returning to his chambers following all the excitement.
So it hadn't all been a dream. Merlin had escaped after all. He was alive and out there somewhere—perhaps having a nice, relaxing morning breakfast with his pet dragon in some deep, dark cave. How quaint.
It was a little hard for Arthur to imagine that, but it was probably true and it also pained him more than he would ever admit. Falling back against his pillows, Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a deep sigh. No more Merlin coming in to spread his curtains and force-feed him breakfast. No more playful arguing or simply messing about. While Merlin still had his ungrateful head attached to his shoulders, there would be no returning to servant duties with the whole of Camelot on alert for him. If anything, Arthur was mostly surprised his father hadn't already ordered him a replacement manservan—
"My liege!" cried a voice, and Arthur nearly choked on his own spit.
"Gah!" he yelped, tumbling out of bed to the floor only to be met with the form of a man in a blue shirt and red scarf standing over him.
For a moment, Arthur thought it was Merlin, and his heart jumped into his throat in horror at how stupid the man could be, coming back here after the night of his almost execution—
But upon further inspection, this wasn't Merlin at all. While they shared a similar unfortunate taste in fashion, this man was far shorter than Merlin and somehow sported an even worse haircut.
"My liege!" the man repeated loudly, and his voice was laced with a very non-Merlin-like reverence as he attempted to pull Arthur back up. "Are you alright, sire? I apologise profusely, sir, I did not mean to startle you! I did knock thrice, but I heard commotion. I feared you were under attack!"
This must be the new one, Arthur thought with a groan. Could his father find him a manservant that was not obnoxious for once?
"I am not under attack," Arthur grumbled as he shirked the servant's attempt at help and pulled himself back to feet. He also doubted a wisp of a man like this one would be much use even if he were under attack. "It's just a bloody bird. And who the hell are you?"
The man's posture somehow stiffened even further. "I am George , sire!" he announced with a robust vibrato, sticking his chin high in the air. "And I am your new manservant! I assure you I will perform much better than that traitor who came before me. I pride myself on being at the top of my game within all areas of the craft of serving, sire."
He said it as if it were a practiced speech and all with an air of contempt regarding Merlin—which made Arthur scowl. While it was true it didn't take much to be a better servant than Merlin, that wound was still a little fresh. A new servant was going to be an adjustment.
"Right," Arthur said dully, purposely not giving George the praise he clearly craved. "Well, you can start by sorting out this wretched thing." He pointed to the bird at this, which squawked like it was offended. "I don't expect to wake up to something like that ever again."
"Of course, sire!" George answered, his voice more shrill than the bird to Arthur's ears, and he thankfully turned his full attention to the animal. The new manservant leveled the little bird with a glare, and the bird seemed to take that as a challenge as it immediately attacked, squawking and swooping at George's face.
George's scream was ear-piercing. Arthur wasn't sure what was funnier—the bird or George, and he didn't bother holding back a grin as he watched the new manservant badly dodge the animal's attacks.
But Arthur's grin quickly faded when the bird landed on his bed and promptly defecated upon his sheets.
"Oi!" exclaimed George, and he tried to catch the bird, but with his uncoordinated arms, he completely missed. The falcon slipped through his fingers and George's hands sailed directly into the shite, spreading excrement all over the silk sheets. Arthur immediately face-palmed. "Come back here, you little devil! I will not have these royal bedchambers desecrated by a filthy merlin!"
George practically screamed the name, and Arthur—who had been about two seconds away from giving the new servant the tongue-lashing of the century—stopped in his tracks. He stared at the servant, temporarily stunned into silence. "What did you just say?"
"I-I said I will not have these chambers desecrated by a filthy merlin!" George repeated, gesturing to the bird with his soiled palm. "They may be wonderful hunting falcons, but they can be very undomesticated! I am terribly sorry, sire. I will find whoever let this falcon out of the aviary and make sure they get a stern talking-to. There should be better security on the—"
"Are you saying this type of falcon is called a merlin?" Arthur interrupted, and George looked surprised by the question.
"Why, yes, it is. I do believe the name comes from the Frankish word esmerillon, meaning falcon, and they are primarily used as hunting falcons. That said, they are rather small and..."
George continued to ramble, but Arthur was no longer listening. His mind was whirling, and it was then that he spotted it.
A small scroll of paper sitting on his chair, right where the falcon had landed.
Arthur's breathing hitched at the sight and he quickly backed up to his desk, palming the scroll so George wouldn't see it. Then he put on his best angry royal face. "Enough of that!" he ordered, cutting George's falcon speech short. The new servant rocketed to attention once more and Arthur grabbed a hunting jacket from his unwashed clothes, throwing it on with angry motions. "I don't need the full history of the bloody bird! Just get it out of here! I'm going out until you do, and I expect this disaster to be cleaned up with new sheets on that bed, or I'll have your head!"
He leveled a stern finger at the new manservant at this, pleased to see George wilt, nodding vigorously, and with that sorted, Arthur stormed out of his chambers. He kept the little piece of paper held tightly in his closed fist, his mind already reeling with guesses as to what it might say.
To his relief, the castle corridors were practically empty as he sailed through them like a man possessed, glancing out into the courtyard only to see the knights all occupied with chopping up Merlin's tree. They were having a hard time of it—mostly because of the sheer size of the thing—and Arthur smirked a little as he tucked himself into an alcove of the corridor. Only then did he finally dare to unravel the small scroll, nearly dropping an object that was pressed inside the parchment's coil. With fumbling fingers, Arthur managed to catch the little present, bringing the object up to the light to inspect it properly.
It appeared to be a whistle. Made of clay and rather crudely molded, but there was a large stamp of the Pendragon dragon on the back of it, and Arthur's eyes widened as he recognised the royal seal itself. His father kept that seal on his hand at all times, except perhaps while he slept, and Arthur could only imagine the nerve it would take to sneak into the king's chambers to steal it.
But then again, Merlin had always been a brave sort of stupid, and the former manservant's handwriting on the note only served to confirm it.
Since I was always at your beck and call anyway, I thought this would be fitting, read the little scroll, and Arthur couldn't help but grin as he read the words in Merlin's annoying voice. I gave it the royal stamp of approval for good measure. Give it a go in the clearing tonight. I think you know the one I mean. - M
The clearing… yes, Arthur did know the one. It was in that very spot that everything had changed between them, and Arthur would not soon forget the dragon swooping down upon them from the sky. He had a feeling he would face that again if he listened to the letter and blew the whistle tonight.
The thought oddly excited him. Him, Arthur Pendragon, looking forward to meeting a sorcerer and a dragon under the cover of darkness. How strange his life had become, and now Arthur found himself even a little nervous.
He had never been nervous to speak to Merlin before. He'd never needed to be, but this time, Arthur knew it would be different. Merlin was no longer his manservant, and no longer a sorcerer locked away in the dungeon. He was a free man, and a powerful one at that. The dynamics between them had changed so drastically, and what was the right thing to say to someone you'd almost executed? Perhaps there wasn't anything Arthur could say to make that right.
But he must try. He had to try, because that's what a king would do. A good king, and with new conviction, Arthur pulled the whistle over his head using the cord it had arrived on, tucking it under his shirt alongside his red talon necklace. He patted it once, assuring himself that it was there before he went about his day, impatiently waiting for night to fall so he could call upon the sorry likes of Merlin one final time.
~O~
The rest of the day went perfectly terrible for Arthur, and unfortunately, he knew exactly why.
There was no other way to sugarcoat it. A day in Camelot without Merlin was hell for Arthur. He'd anticipated this, but in many ways, he had forgotten just how unstable his life had been before Merlin had joined the royal household. It was not something he could ever admit to anyone, but he'd been so lonely and isolated back then. Feeling the pressure of his duties mount, and noticing that everyone around him was treating him as nothing more than a delicate vase. With each passing year, Arthur had begun to feel more like a walking, talking sword—an object of protection and admiration, but nothing more. At the time, he hadn't realised how much he'd needed someone to talk to him not as a prince.
And then Merlin had entered the picture. He had been the person Arthur needed, right on time. For all of his infuriating ways, that sorcerer had been the first person who'd ever had the audacity to look Arthur in the eye and talk back to him. He'd likely done that probably because of his sorcery, and Arthur realised that now, but at the time, Merlin was the first servant Arthur had ever encountered that gave it to him straight. He'd certainly been the first friend to ever peel back Arthur's armour, discovering his struggles and fears, and over time, he'd become the one Arthur knew he could turn to when he needed it most. A confidant that was always available, and always there to help him sort out his thoughts.
And oh, how badly Arthur needed a confidant today.
The chaos of the past few days had caused unrest throughout the whole of Camelot. Between Merlin's escape and also possible war with Essetir, the civil order was shaky at best, leaving everyone in the citadel on edge.
That was never a good thing. Gossip ripped through the ranks of the knights and servants like a disease, and that did not bode well for the health of Arthur's public image. He did not have a good track record over the past week, considering his very public fight with his father, Merlin's long-undetected sorcery, his dramatic escape, the breach of Essetir's borders, the death of Roldan, and now the return of a dragon that Arthur claimed to have killed…
Well. Long story short, it didn't take long for Arthur to realise he wasn't particularly popular at the moment. He could practically feel the trust of the people in him fading. The faith of the public in their monarch was a fickle thing, and Uther had spent the better part of the morning downplaying the public's concerns. He hadn't wasted any time spreading a rumour that Arthur had been enchanted, waving off his son's treasonous actions, but it was useless. The people now feared war, and there were whispers of Cenred being supported by the powers of sorcery. Could the king of Essetir be in league with Merlin and his dragon? And could Emrys be planning to return and attack?
It was troublesome to say the least, and it bothered Arthur how quickly the grains of truth had been swept away and mixed up by the tidal wave of gossip. Townspeople and knights that knew Merlin personally, even talked to him regularly, were suddenly characterising him as a monster. Tales of Emrys as the son of a demon had spread by mid-afternoon, capturing the public's imagination, and that made Arthur deeply angry. Had they not all stood in the same courtyard yesterday? Had they not heard Merlin's call for peace?
But the truth didn't matter, really. It never did, not once fear had managed to secure a chokehold on the collective conscience. Arthur had seen it happen before. Scandal would always be more gripping than reality, and it would not be easily dispelled. So how could he, Arthur, ever hope to dispel it? How could he ever hope to win the love and trust of the public?
Perhaps he couldn't. Perhaps he had no hope at all of ever becoming the king he wished to be, but he couldn't worry about that now. After suffering through the stress of the day, Arthur's anxiety was eating him alive, so the daylight fading was a welcome sight. Sitting in his chambers, Arthur brought his hand to his chest, checking to make sure Merlin's whistle was still there. The last time he had snuck out of the castle, it had been to seek Merlin's advice, and tonight, Arthur was preparing to do so again.
But this time, he was a little better prepared for what awaited him in the forest.
The castle was still on high alert when Arthur made his silent exit from the citadel. The cold air greeted him in the courtyard, and it wasn't all that hard for him to slip out into the upper town. He'd been the one to design the guard schedules, after all, and he knew their weak points. With a dark cloak thrown over his shoulders, Arthur snaked his way through the upper town's back roads, moving into the lower town with little resistance. The coolness of the evening calmed him somewhat, rejuvenating his lungs, and he didn't encounter another living soul until he was nearly at the edge of the Darkling Woods.
And it was there that Arthur encountered two people he had not expected to see.
There was no mistaking Guinevere's hair. Tied up in small braids with flowers tucked into them, and the man with the awkward gate next to her couldn't be anyone but Gaius. Arthur spotted them up ahead, but they didn't spot him, and with a grin, Arthur took the opportunity to sneak up behind them in the shadows, only daring to speak when he was close.
"Roaming about at such a late hour, are we?" he boomed as soon as he was near enough, causing both the serving girl and the physician to nearly jump out of their skin.
"Arthur!" Gwen cried, whirling around and nearly burning Arthur with her swinging torch. Arthur dodged the flames, laughing a little as he removed his hood. "Don't do that! I thought you were a guard!"
"Sorry," Arthur apologised, and he meant it, especially as he watched real terror leave Guinevere's face. He'd momentarily forgotten how being caught sneaking about could mean real danger for her. Yet another instance of his nobility making him careless. "I apologise, I didn't mean to truly frighten you. I was just surprised to see you. What is it that brings you both out here at this hour? And with an oh-so-dangerous sorcerer on the loose, at that."
He said that last part in jest, trying to lighten the mood, and a tiny smile wormed its way onto Guinevere's face. It was a look of relief, but something else, too. Almost delight, and to Arthur's surprise, she pointed to his chest. "I think the same reason as you," she said, and Arthur looked down to see that Merlin's whistle had dislodged itself from underneath his shirt, hanging from his neck and glinting in the light of the moon.
Arthur grabbed it, clutching it in his fist protectively, but to his surprise, Guinevere and Gaius both pulled identical whistles out of their clothing, showing them off to him.
Arthur's eyes widened. "You both received one?"
"It seems Merlin's schemes never cease, despite exile," Gaius said dryly, speaking for the first time since Arthur's arrival. It occurred to Arthur then that he hadn't talked to Gaius since the man had narrowly stopped him from dueling his father, and Arthur didn't even know how to begin to ask for his forgiveness for all he'd put him through.
"Gaius—" Arthur began, his face no doubt betraying his anguish, but Gaius waved him off.
"Don't," he said simply, and the expression of kindness was enough to melt Arthur where he stood. There was forgiveness there—forgiveness Arthur did not deserve. "You don't need to say anything to the likes of me. You've made a decision your father would never dare make. Perhaps this all will be a step in the right direction for Camelot. And perhaps you can be the change this kingdom desperately needs."
He said it with such hope, such faith, and Arthur swallowed, unsure if he could ever live up to that dream. The pressure was already beginning to mount. "I'd like to be," Arthur said in answer, but he could hear his own fear in his voice as he started to walk, overwhelmed by emotion and wanting to hide that. They also needed to get moving before the guards completed their loop of the lower town.
Luckily, Gaius and Gwen both followed his lead without question, falling into step behind him as the trio took the main hunting trail to the forest. The full moon lit their way, shining like a beacon and beckoning them towards the trees. The trails itself remained empty, but if anyone dared cross them, Arthur hoped Gaius and Gwen knew he'd protect them.
It didn't take long for them to reach the woods. The thicket swallowed them within minutes, growing more dense the more they walked, and the wind whistled ominously in the silence. Shivering, Arthur was reminded of how he'd followed Merlin here just days ago. He recalled the way well—the strange route to the clearing that didn't follow any of the hunting paths. At the time, Arthur hadn't been able to fathom how Merlin knew where to go, but now he did. He could see the faint flattened trail that Merlin had worn into the brush over time.
"I find it interesting that you know where to go, Arthur," Gaius said as they walked, breaking the silence and clearly noting Arthur's direction. "Did Merlin tell you of his meeting place?"
It was a guarded question, as if Gaius was trying hard not to sound accusatory, and Arthur's warm feelings of being a team faded a little. He had hoped that Gaius felt safe with him now, and that he knew he could speak openly. But maybe it was unfair for Arthur to expect that so quickly. It would take time. He needed to earn that trust.
"He didn't tell me, no," Arthur admitted as he continued to push through the trees, the edges of the clearing now becoming visible up ahead. In fact, they were now only a few paces from the tree Arthur had sheltered behind when he'd first discovered Merlin's secret. How long ago that felt now. "I followed Merlin here. Three nights ago. Bit of a shock, really, watching your manservant summon a dragon."
There was silence from Gaius as he processed that—probably realising that Arthur had been present when Gaius himself had met Merlin in the woods. The silence stretched on for a moment before the physician came into Arthur's view, catching up to his pace. The old man didn't stare at the trees, however, but rather at the sky, no doubt thinking of his ward.
"I imagine this has been a strange few days for you, Arthur," Gaius observed as they reached the clearing's edge. The three of them stopped there to admire the view of Camelot's turrets in the distance. "There are many things about magic I have known for some time, but they are just now coming to light for you. You've encountered it before, but never quite like this."
"No, not like this," Arthur agreed, and he had a bad feeling that there was much more he was unaware of. He wasn't sure if he was altogether ready to learn. "I won't lie to you, Gaius. I do find all this difficult to understand. But I do wish to understand it. I wish to work to be the prince and the king that you imagine me to be. So… here I am. Summoning a dragon myself. How things change, eh?"
And then with a small laugh of wonderment, Arthur took up his little dragon whistle, brought it up to his mouth, and gave it a mighty blow—
Only for no sound to come out.
Arthur blinked in surprise, looking down at the whistle. He'd expected a shrill call to break through the trees. Perhaps a bird-like ring. But there was nothing, and Arthur tried blowing it again.
Still. No sound.
"It… it's not broken, is it?" Arthur said in worry, looking over to his companions. He expected to see them trying out their own whistles, but he only found Gaius with his hands covering his ears, a look of twisted pain on his face.
"Will you stop blowing that?" the physician griped, and he slowly removed his hands from his face. "No need to destroy our eardrums. I imagine just once will suffice."
He said it so nonchalantly, as if nothing was wrong, and Arthur merely blinked at him. "You mean to say you heard it?" he said, glancing to Gwen, but the serving girl shrugged.
"I didn't hear anything," she reported, and Gaius frowned.
"Oh," he muttered, and Arthur watched as a slight panic crossed Gaius' face. It quickly disappeared, but it was replaced with a sort of resignation. "Well, perhaps it can only be heard by those with magic. It's very shrill, I assure you."
Arthur stared, his skin crawling a little as he digested the physician's words. "What're you saying, Gaius?" he asked, and he stepped back from the physician a bit, his confusion slowly turning to dread. "You don't mean… Gaius, you don't mean to say that you have ma—"
But Arthur didn't get to finish his sentence because it was then that the familiar sound of flapping wings overtook the clearing. This was followed by a low roar, ripping through the trees, and in a rush of motion, Camelot's sky was overtaken by a familiar sight. The silhouette of the massive dragon dominated the pale white of the moon, its bat-like wings spread wide, and it was an image that drew the breath out of Arthur's lungs immediately. Any words he'd been about to say withered and died.
He was never going to grow used to that, was he? Arthur wasn't sure he'd ever not freeze at the sight of a dragon in the sky, and this time around, there was clearly the silhouette of a person perched on the dragon's back.
"Ah," Gaius murmured with a slight smile, and Arthur wondered if he was holding back a laugh. He supposed that this would all be very funny to Gaius—watching Arthur and Gwen react to things that he was used to. It was a moment Gaius had probably even hoped for, and Arthur felt a stroke of horror radiate through him as Gaius raised his right hand. In answer to Arthur's half-spoken question, the physician's eyes sparkled gold, a little bit of fire appearing in his palm. The smoke of the fire curled upward into the air, forming into the shape of a dragon before disappearing in a blink of an eye.
Gaius met his gaze, the magic he'd just performed still lingering in his irises as he trusted Arthur with this secret. The knowledge that Merlin wasn't the only one in Camelot with magic.
"Welcome to the inner circle, Arthur," Gaius said, and his tone was serious now. Laying down the ground rules. "I hope you realise how important this moment is for Merlin, but also for me. You aren't accustomed to magic, but I am, and even I struggle to understand Merlin's abilities at times. I don't believe you realise just how powerful he is. Coming from this old sorcerer, believe me when I tell you Merlin is no average warlock. He is nothing short of extraordinary."
Nothing short of extraordinary. Yes, Arthur was starting to understand that, and his tired brain reeled from one too many instances of magic at once. Merlin's magic, the dragon above him, and now mystical fire in Gaius' palm. Three magical beings putting their trust in him, and why? Arthur still wasn't totally sure what about him made them trust him, and the reverence in Gaius' voice for Merlin was not lost on him. It was similar to how the Archdruid had spoken of Merlin… two sorcerers now talking about Merlin almost as if he were a prince among sorcerer kind.
And perhaps that was what he was.
The impact of the dragon's clawed feet on the clearing shook the ground itself. The trees whirled from the wind of the beast's wings, and Arthur was ashamed to find himself recoiling, barely able to keep himself from turning tail. He'd been mentally preparing himself all day for this meeting, but he still wasn't ready. His whole body screamed at him to run, his years of training telling him to either draw his sword or escape—
But Arthur fought against those instincts, keeping himself rooted in place. He was determined to not appear shaken and he kept his gaze focused ahead as the towering dragon settled before him. The wind of its wings subsided, the beast folding them neatly on his back. Its glowing yellow eyes found Arthur's, looking almost amused, and after a second, a face popped up from behind the dragon's head.
For someone who'd almost gotten himself executed the day before, Merlin looked weirdly cheerful. He had a dumb smile on his stupid face, waving at his friends from up on the dragon like he was in a parade, and then he promptly fell over as he crawled off the dragon's back.
Arthur couldn't help but snort, some of the tension he'd been feeling leaving him. All this talk of Merlin's power and prestige, and he still couldn't perfect a dismount, could he?
At least some things would never change.
"Hello!" Merlin called to them, breathless as he approached, and it occurred to Arthur that he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Merlin so happy. The sorcerer was smiling from ear to ear, a skip to his step now. Free, Arthur's mind supplied, and he realised that was what it was. He was finally witnessing a Merlin without any secrets, and the first thing Merlin did was run to Gaius.
The sorcerer practically fell into the physician's arms, and it gave Arthur a small pinch of envy to watch the love of a father and his son, even if that's not technically what they were. Gaius hugged Merlin back so tightly he was going to give the boy bruises.
"It's okay, Gaius," Arthur heard Merlin whisper, and he could see tears forming in Gaius' eyes. "Really. I'm fine."
"You're an idiot," Gaius whispered back, and Arthur had never heard the word used so affectionately. Arthur smiled somewhat despite himself, and when Merlin broke away from Gaius, Arthur was sure Merlin had seen that. The former servant opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Guinevere sprinted past Arthur, tackling Merlin in a hug of her own.
"Oof, alright," Merlin said, and he hugged her back, laughing. "S'okay, Gwen, I'm okay."
"No, you aren't," Gwen said, and she squeezed him tighter before finally releasing him. She smiled, drawing a flower from her hair and tucking it behind Merlin's ear. "I don't think any of us are alright. I thought… I thought you and Gaius were perhaps messing with magic. Cooking up potions, or something like that! I suppose this goes a little bit beyond that, doesn't it?"
"Yes, a bit," Merlin said sheepishly, and he touched Gwen's flower affectionately before taking it out of his hair. He held it before Gwen, and Arthur watched as he transformed the single flower into a full flower crown, levitating it and placing it on the serving girl's head. "Sorry I didn't tell you. I did wonder if you'd suspected me."
Gwen laughed in wonderment, and she took off the crown, studying Merlin's handiwork. "I didn't suspect something quite like this," she admitted, and she placed the crown back on her head with a grin. "But I'm warming up to it."
Merlin's smile was radiant. There was relief there. Relief that Gwen didn't hate him, and it hurt Arthur to see that he'd ever think she would. "I'm glad," Merlin said softly, and then his gaze turned back to Arthur.
For some reason, Arthur froze. All day, he had been planning what he would say to Merlin. The right words. The right apologies, the right questions. But in the moment, with Merlin finally standing before him and no longer separated by bars—
The words didn't come. Instead, Arthur just cleared his throat awkwardly, struggling to force any words to leave his lips.
"Still alive, are you?" he said without thinking, and he immediately cringed. That was probably not the most sensitive thing to say, but Merlin, luckily, didn't seem offended. A sparkle had returned to his eyes that Arthur hadn't realised was missing.
"Still alive," Merlin confirmed, and he gestured to the whistle in Arthur's hand. "Glad to see you received my gift. And glad to hear it works."
"Works!" scoffed the dragon from beside them, causing the ground beneath them to rumble, and Arthur recoiled, his heart in his throat. He'd nearly forgotten the dragon could talk. "I say. That is an understatement. A detestable sound."
"But effective," Merlin pointed out, looking at the dragon before back at Arthur. "I specifically enchanted the whistles so they would summon the both of us, no matter where we are. Could you even hear it?"
"No, I couldn't," Arthur answered slowly, and he lifted the little whistle up, studying it in the moonlight. "Although Gaius appeared to. Two sorcerers operating under my nose, and now I have you sneaking about my father's chambers and stealing his seal out from under him. Reckless and harebrained even for you, Merlin."
He shook the whistle at this, chiding the servant as he usually would, and the smirk that graced Merlin's face was both annoying and expected. He moved towards Arthur, erasing most of the space left between them, and for a moment Arthur thought Merlin might hug him. He would have allowed it, but Merlin didn't, respectfully keeping some space between them.
"I guess I've always been a bit harebrained, haven't I?" Merlin said, and his eyes shone. In Arthur's hand, the whistle began to glow—revealing the hidden enchantment in the seal's stamp. "I've tempted fate enough these past few days. Might as well tempt it a bit further. The seal actually strengthens the enchantment. A personal tie to you. It amplifies the sound and makes it easier to hear its call from long distances. This way you can… you know. Call me when you need me."
"I see," Arthur said, because he wasn't sure what else to say. He could feel the magic in the whistle now, pulsating underneath his fingertips. "Well, the bird that delivered it shat on my bed, so thank you for that."
Merlin laughed, a genuine laugh, and it was so usual, their banter. So normal that Arthur could almost forget all that had happened. "Well, I might have told the bird to do whatever necessary to get your attention," Merlin confessed, although he didn't look very sorry. "Including making a bit of a mess. Got yourself a new servant to deal with it yet?"
"Got a new one this morning," Arthur answered, and he smiled too. "He's dreadful, really. Somehow even more incompetent than you."
Merlin winced. "Poor chap," he said with sympathy, and for a moment, everything was alright between them.
But then Merlin fell silent. He stopped leading their conversation, and an awkward silence befell the two of them. Merlin was staring, waiting, and with a jolt Arthur realised what he was doing. He was giving Arthur the space to have his say—to acknowledge all that had happened—and Arthur knew now was the time to open his mouth. That now was the time he should say he was sorry. Sorry for everything, and to pledge his commitment to change when he became sovereign.
But his mouth just sort of flapped uselessly.
A slight bit of hurt crossed Merlin's face at that. A tiny visible sadness, but also understanding. Sympathy for Arthur's discomfort with the situation, no doubt, and that made Arthur squirm even more. He didn't deserve any sympathy, and least of all from Merlin.
"It's alright, Arthur," Merlin said after a pause, taking charge when Arthur failed to speak. "You don't need to pretend everything is normal. It's not, and it probably always will feel strange. I'm just… I'm glad. More than I can explain. I'm glad you're giving me a chance. That you chose to give me a chance. I do appreciate it."
He said it with such sincerity, such heartfelt goodwill, and for some reason, that made Arthur feel worse. It was so easy for him, wasn't it? For Merlin to just… forgive. To wave away all the past's sins, and to forget that Arthur had nearly killed him. But that didn't alleviate Arthur's guilt. He wasn't the one giving Merlin a second chance. Merlin was giving him another chance, and Arthur wanted to communicate that, but the words wouldn't come, leaving Gaius to save him from the ensuing silence.
"Perhaps you should introduce Kilgharrah to Guinevere and Arthur, Merlin," the physician suggested gently, and Merlin rocketed to attention.
"Right, yes!" he exclaimed, turning to the dragon. "Kilgharrah, I believe you know Gaius already, but I don't think you've met Arthur or Gwen properly. Gwen, Arthur—meet Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon."
He gestured to Arthur and Gwen at this, introducing the giant creature to them, and Guinevere drew close to Arthur's side, eyeing it warily. "Hello," she said tentatively.
"Hello," the dragon said back softly, lowering its great head at them. The creature's voice was suddenly gentle when speaking to Guinevere, and Arthur supposed she had that effect on everyone, even dragons. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet the young Pendragon and his future queen, and under better circumstances than last we met."
Arthur's mouth fell open at that, sputtering, and next to him, Gwen made a similar noise.
"Kilgarrah, please keep it light on the prophecy snippets," Merlin hissed, eyeing the dragon critically before shooting Arthur and Gwen an apology smile . "I did tell him I didn't want to overwhelm you both with prophecies. He rarely elaborates."
"I elaborate when necessary," the dragon defended himself. "When the time is right, and only then."
Merlin gave Arthur an eyeroll that seemed to say see what I mean?, but Arthur didn't really know what to do with that. The concept of asking dragons for prophetic advice was fairly new to him, so he just smiled weakly.
"Do you… do you regularly ride around on dragons?" Gwen asked Merlin, curious, and when Arthur glanced at her, the serving girl's eyes were wide as saucers. She was studying the dragon, but with fascination, not fear. "And are there more? Dragons, I mean."
Merlin looked somewhat sad at the question. "I'm a Dragonlord," he explained. "So, yes, I can speak the dragon tongue and they must listen to me when I ask something of them. It's an ability I inherited from my father. Unfortunately, due to Uther, there aren't really many dragons around anymore except for Kilgarrah."
"Yes, because I was a trophy to him," Kilgarrah rumbled, and Arthur felt another rush of guilt course through him at the mention of his father. "A symbol of his victory against magic. For years he kept me shackled underneath that castle, torturing me when it suited him. I suppose people as young as you did not even know I was there, did you?"
"I didn't," Gwen admitted with sadness of her own, and Arthur realised he hadn't either. He'd heard mention of a captured dragon at court, but he'd mostly thought it was something that happened long ago. Is that what had led the dragon to attacking Camelot? It was not something he'd considered before.
Merlin must have noticed his expression, because he grimaced. "He's very sorry about the fires and all that," he assured Arthur, although Arthur wasn't entirely sure if that was true. The dragon shifted beside Merlin, but didn't truly protest. Perhaps it couldn't, since it had to obey Merlin's every word?
"It's… fine," Arthur managed to say, unsticking his mouth once again and addressing the dragon. It felt weird, speaking to the creature directly, but he forced himself to look it in the eye. He had to start making progress somewhere. "I'm sure my father and his actions made you very angry, Kilgarrah. I'm sorry for what he did to you. I didn't know of it, and I wish I could have done something to prevent it. But that said, I don't think attacking Camelot and hurting innocents along the way was the answer."
He tried to speak as diplomatically as possible, and as he did, the dragon shifted again, a growl sounding deep in its throat. Arthur tried very hard not to show fear, but to his surprise, the dragon nodded in agreement.
"No, perhaps it was not the most productive choice," the creature admitted, and Arthur really couldn't believe that a dragon was agreeing with him. "And what a strange day this is. One I have foreseen for some time. A Pendragon, standing before me, talking of peace over violence. I did not imagine this hour would ever come."
"I did," Merlin said, smiling, and he spoke with such conviction that another bolt of guilt struck Arthur. "I knew he'd come around. Your prophecies always come true eventually, Kilgarrah. Even if it's not in the way we expect."
Once again, Merlin was looking at him, and Arthur found himself at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say. What was there to say? What could he say when faced with the fact that his manservant and a dragon have been taking bets on his moral choices?
It was a lot to take in. A little too much, and Arthur could see Merlin recognising that. There was sad understanding in Merlin's expression again, and this time, it was Gwen that saved Arthur from another awkward silence.
"Can I…" Gwen began, and she was still staring at the dragon with wonder. "Can we… that is to say, Mr. Great Dragon, sir, could I…"
She couldn't seem to form the words, but Merlin smirked, catching her meaning. "Can you ride him? Is that what you're asking?"
"Yes," Gwen confirmed, and the dragon snorted.
"I am not a horse, Merlin," it complained, but Merlin rolled his eyes.
"She toils all day working in the castle, can you blame her for wanting to try something as exciting as flying?" he shot back, before turning back to Gwen. "Of course you can have a go, Gwen. There's nothing quite like it, trust me."
Arthur had never seen Gwen's face light up with such excitement, and she turned to Arthur, grabbing his arm. "Will you come with me?" she asked, and Arthur's heartrate immediately spiked.
"Er—" Arthur struggled, eyeing the dragon warily. He wasn't sure how to politely express that the idea of mounting a dragon that had once tried to kill him was the last thing he wanted to do. "I think my feet do better on the ground, thanks. But you're welcome to it."
Gwen deflated a bit, looking disappointed. "I'm not sure I want to go alone," she admitted, and the dragon chuckled.
"Perhaps the physician would like to join you," the creature suggested with a hint of malice. "If I remember right, you never did conquer your fear of heights, did you, Gaius?"
Beside Arthur, Gaius went white as a sheet and Merlin's eyes widened, turning to him. "Are you scared of heights, Gaius? I didn't know that. We live in a tower, I thought you'd be alright with it."
"A tower and a dragon are two different things," Gaius murmured, looking a little green, but he swallowed. "However, I imagine I must get used to it if dragon riding is in our collective futures. It has been many years since I last braved the skies. I suppose now is as good a time as any to get back into it."
"Back into it?" Merlin repeated, aghast, but Gaius did not elaborate, already walking towards the dragon with Guinevere bouncing at his heels. The physician locked eyes with Arthur as he walked, his expression unmistakable. Facing my fears, Arthur, he seemed to say, his fatherly gaze boring into Arthur's. Time for you to face yours.
Arthur swallowed, another stab of guilt hitting him as he realised just what Gaius was doing. He was forcing Arthur to talk to Merlin properly, and he wondered if the physician recognised that this was more than just a hard conversation between friends. That this was one of Arthur's first steps towards becoming king—apologising to a sorcerer, and attempting to make amends.
It was hard for him, watching Guinevere climb up onto the back of a dragon. It wasn't easy to dispel the fear that rose up in him the moment he saw her clutching onto the horns on its back, and even harder to not imagine her falling from some great height to her death. He did feel a bit better knowing Gaius was going with her, especially now that Arthur knew the physician possessed magic as an aid. It was odd for Arthur, thinking of magic as a comfort, but it was somewhat comforting and Merlin must have guessed his thoughts.
"She'll be fine," Merlin assured as he too watched Gwen getting used to sitting atop the dragon. "Kilgharrah and Gaius would never let anything happen to her. I promise you that."
"I know," Arthur said, and he meant it. He wasn't sure when exactly he'd begun to trust Merlin's word in that way, but he knew he had for some time. Even after learning of all Merlin's lies, it was hard not to trust the sincerity in his voice, and even as the sorcerer switched to dragon language, addressing Kilgharrah. The dragon nodded, accepting whatever it was that Merlin had said to it, and then its wings were spread wide again, taking to the air.
The wind whipped up again, both Merlin and Arthur bracing against it, but this time around, it was accompanied by an excited squeak from Gwen. Arthur had never seen her look so exhilarated as they took off, soaring up into the sky with her flowers falling out of her hair in the breeze. Gaius looked like he was holding on for dear life, trying not to throw up, and then they were gone, disappearing on the horizon for the time being. Having a magical adventure.
Meanwhile, Arthur was left with Merlin. Just the two of them, alone in the clearing, and Arthur could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. Merlin had already forgiven him, after all, but perhaps that was exactly the issue.
He could feel Merlin's gaze on him. It was burning holes into him, but Arthur kept his eyes on the dragon until it was out of sight in the dark sky and there was no stalling anymore. Only then did he look to his former servant, and the concern on the sorcerer's face caused fresh guilt to slice through him.
"Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked him, and Arthur realised he had tears forming in his eyes. Visible tears.
"No," Arthur answered honestly, and finally, he'd found the words. The dam broke, and the truth tumbled out of him. "No, I'm not alright, Merlin. I nearly killed you."
Merlin's smile was a small one. "Well, yes, I know, but… you didn't. That's all that really mat—"
He didn't finish his sentence because Arthur was hugging him. He hadn't even realised he'd moved, his feet acting without thought, but his arms were around Merlin, drawing him and his stupid red scarf in close. Making sure Merlin was there and saying more with this than he could possibly hope to articulate.
He'd never hugged Merlin before. He knew this, and Merlin was so stunned that it took a moment for him to hug Arthur back. But he did, of course, clutching Arthur just as tightly. An answer to the unspoken words they were both struggling to communicate, and soundlessly letting all the animosity from back in the dungeon to melt away. Retiring it to the past, where it belonged, and Arthur wasn't sure how long they stood there, just quietly mending something he'd feared couldn't be mended. No sane man would forgive him for what he'd done, but when the two of them finally broke away from each other, there were happy tears welling in Merlin's eyes. His mouth opened to speak, but for once, Merlin was the one without the right words to say.
Arthur took the opportunity to say two words he desperately needed to speak. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and he wished he could convey truly how sorry with just those words. "I'm so sorry, Merlin. I don't… I don't know what else to say."
"It's okay, Arthur, really," Merlin said, and he laughed a little. "But thank you for saying it," he added, and his eyes glowed a little as he spoke, summoning a flower petal out of Arthur's hair and bringing it into the air. It took Arthur a moment to recognise it as a petal from the tree Merlin had created yesterday. Had it been stuck in his hair all day?
Probably, and Merlin's smile widened as he took the petal and transformed it into a flower crown just like Gwen's. He levitated it onto Arthur's head and now Arthur was both crying and laughing. "Crowning me a bit early, are you?"
"The way I see it, I've always been in the service of King Arthur," Merlin said cheekily, and he crossed his arms. "I was never really a servant to King Uther, not that I ever really listened to either of you."
It was Arthur's turn to laugh now. "You listen when it matters. You did see it, didn't you? My signal. From the balcony."
"Yes, I saw it," Merlin acknowledged, and he imitated it. Two brushes of his nose with his pointer finger. "I'm glad you remembered it. And I appreciated it."
He said it rather offhandedly, like his decision to escape had not hinged on it, and a realisation ran through Arthur. "You were planning on getting out anyway, weren't you?"
A coy smile graced Merlin's face, and that was answer enough. "I always had a bad feeling I'd end up with a rope around my neck, one way or another," he confessed. "I've had nightmares about it for years. But that's also given me plenty of time to plan how I wanted it to go. I decided if I was going to do a big escape, I might as well do it publicly. Make a statement. Show the people and your father that magic can be a force for peace, if you let it. But… it did mean a lot to me to see your signal. To see you made a decision in the end."
"Made a decision to not let my father brutally murder you?" Arthur clarified bitterly, and Merlin squirmed a little.
"Yes. That."
"I'm only sorry I didn't come to the conclusion earlier," Arthur said, deflating, and he looked to the sky. Shame still gnawed at him, and maybe that would never go away. "I'm sorry that you felt the need to be subjected to a trial and a public execution just to make a point."
Merlin's smile was a sad one now, and he looked to his boots. "I'm sorry, too," he said, and he sighed. "I'm sorry about Roldan. I had a lot of time to think about that in the dungeon, and about how I didn't even look at him before I killed him. How my magic is often like your sword, as you pointed out."
Merlin raised his palm, summoning a bit of fire into existence not unlike how Gaius had. Arthur stared at it, mesmerised by the little flame. Something beautiful, but also dangerous. "It is not always a weapon, but when it is, I have a responsibility for how I use it," Merlin continued. "I've grown careless with that over the years. Grown to see enemies as faceless. As simply obstacles. Not as people with… families. Children. I didn't used to be that way. I'd… I'd never killed anyone before I moved to Camelot."
Arthur grimaced, and he watched as Merlin extinguished the flame as easily as he'd conjured it. If there was one thing Arthur didn't pretend to know anything about, it was magic, but he did know a thing or two about battle and the guilt it could cause. "Warfare changes you," Arthur reminded him, trying to ease Merlin's guilt somewhat. "I am certainly not without my own sins in that category. I suppose I'd never considered you a warrior before, Merlin, but you are, aren't you? And it's easy to become desensitized to the killing. To only see the end, and not the means, and how often you find yourself in a situation where no answer seems like the right one."
"Right, exactly," Merlin mumbled, looking more and more exhausted with each passing second. Arthur could relate. "It's hard to imagine a time when I wasn't caught in such a situation. And is that what your whole spectacle was in the Druid cave? Giving me the choice on what to do?"
Arthur bit his lip, having sort of hoped Merlin wouldn't ask any further questions about his trials. But he supposed it was only fair that he explained. "A little," he admitted. "I didn't want to threaten the Druids, but it was part of what my father asked of me. I already knew that you were Emrys, and he put me in a bad position by sending me out to interrogate them. I suppose I… I just wanted to see what you would do if you were in that situation. If you were me."
"I assure you, I have no interest in being you, Arthur," Merlin promised, and Arthur laughed a little.
"I know," he said, and his tone slid into bitterness. "Just checking. And why would you, anyway? I don't know why anyone would want to be Prince of Camelot. You handled that situation better than I could have ever hoped to do. My kingdom is on the brink of war with Essetir, and we are still warring with sorcery. The people of Camelot don't trust me. My father sees me as a failure. None of that exactly bodes well for my kingship."
Arthur made no attempt to shield the brokenness in his voice anymore, and Merlin's brow furrowed—almost like he was disappointed in Arthur's attitude. "You're being too hard on yourself," he scolded, and the irony was not lost on Arthur. A sorcerer who'd almost died at Arthur's hand, telling him he was being too hard on himself. "Perhaps it looks that way at the moment, but you have the potential to bring this kingdom in a new direction. A direction your father would never dream of. The Druids have foreseen that potential in you. Even Cian told you as much."
Arthur snorted in disbelief, looking to the sky and checking to see if he could spot the dragon returning yet, but the sky remained empty. Gwen and Gaius were still out there, having their fun before they'd have to return back to Camelot. Back to reality and a war-torn land. "I admire your optimism, Merlin," Arthur said quietly. "It's a wonder to me that you can be optimistic at all. But it's one thing to see potential, and another entirely to see it through. My father is not fit to rule, but I am not ready to replace him. Perhaps I will never be ready. I don't have a plan for how Camelot can move forwards, and I don't have any idea how I can go about reintroducing magic to the people after years of it being vilified. What sort of king will I be, if I can't face all of that?"
His voice cracked, the words coming rushing out of him like a flood. Confessions and fears that he'd been bottling up for some time. Troubles and concerns he hadn't admitted to anyone else, but here he was, admitting them all to Merlin. Despite everything, the sorcerer was still Arthur's confidant, and it was amazing to him how much Merlin's faith in Arthur shone in his every feature. Even now, after everything Arthur had put him through, the sorcerer stood and faced him with an unwavering loyalty. A steadfastness that was as unshakeable as the stone foundation Camelot was built on.
"You will achieve it, Arthur," Merlin said, and he spoke of it with more conviction than Arthur could ever hope to possess. Willing the kingdom he dreamt of into existence. "It is your destiny to become the greatest king this kingdom has ever known. That's something only you can do, and it is my destiny to help you get there. Mine, Gwen, Gaius. You don't need to do any of this alone, alright? So don't let the future overwhelm you."
Arthur's chest felt suddenly tight. He found it hard to breathe. "Easier said than done, Merlin."
"Oh, trust me, I know," Merlin said with a wry laugh. "But you're not your father, and that alone is enough to put you on a different path. I saw you, you know. When Gogan pulled the lever on the gallows, I saw your expression. You couldn't hide your grief. You once told me no man is worth your tears, but I…"
Merlin trailed for a moment, swallowing as he found the words again. Both him and Arthur recalled that horrible moment, and it hadn't occurred to Arthur that Merlin had seen his reaction. "I was glad to see you not take your own advice," Merlin went on after a second. "That's not nothing, Arthur. Your father has become desensitized to death. He has no problem murdering loyal friends. You aren't like him in that way, and you can change things. You have that power. We both do, and we can find a new direction, together, assuming you're willing to actually take advice for me."
His tone lilted a bit at the end there, poking fun at Arthur, and Arthur sniffed. "Me, take advice from a sorcerer?" he joked, accepting the bait. "A scary thought."
Merlin shrugged, and he looked up at the sky too, smiling at the moon. "Stranger things have happened. You'll need a royal advisor when you're king, won't you? Perhaps I'll apply."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, unable to tell if he was joking or not. "Is that your plan? When I'm crowned king, you come waltzing back in and apply for a promotion?"
"Is it really a promotion if I got sacked from the previous job?" Merlin pointed out, and he was grinning from ear to ear now. "Perhaps it's more of a rehiring situation."
"You didn't get sacked, Merlin."
"No, I got arrested. Bit different, I suppose."
They fell silent for a moment then, both of them just grinning and looking up at the moon. It was odd, in a way, what they had become. Still bantering as they usually did, but talking of bigger things. For some reason, Arthur had feared those times had passed, never to be regained, but it wasn't like Merlin was a different person. He was still the same, just as Arthur was the same, and yet they'd both changed these past few days. They'd taken a step in a new direction, and Arthur wasn't sure how long they both stood there, comfortable in the silence until Merlin spoke again, his smile having somewhat faded.
"You aren't…" Merlin began, struggling with the words for a moment before he got them out. "You aren't scared of me, are you, Arthur?"
It was an honest question, and Arthur could hear fear of his own in Merlin's voice. As if Merlin had been meaning to ask, but didn't quite want to know the answer.
Arthur paused for a moment, working on a response, but he felt bad for pausing. That was an answer in itself, and he forced himself to speak. "Not scared, per se," he said, and that was true. "I don't think you'd ever intentionally hurt me. But I will say it's hard not to feel like you've drawn a sword on me every time you use it."
Merlin nodded slowly, and he looked to his hands, shifting awkwardly. "The last thing I want is for you to fear me, Arthur," he expressed, and Arthur couldn't help but marvel at hearing a sorcerer say that. "Or anyone to fear me. I don't think that's the purpose of it, instilling fear, but I hope the more you learn of it the less threatening it will seem. You've only ever seen magic used as a weapon, but there's so much more to it than that."
"I'm sure that's true," Arthur acknowledged with a nod. "And if I can begin to see that, maybe the people of Camelot can grow to see it, too. Perhaps that can be the next step in preparing me for the throne. Growing to learn that which I do not understand."
A smile returned to Merlin's face a little. "I hope so," he said, and just as he did, he squinted a little at the sky. "They're back," he announced.
Arthur frowned, squinting too, but the sky remained black and empty for him. "How can you tell? I don't see anything."
"I can see farther than you," Merlin revealed, a little smugly. "Perks of magic, I guess."
Arthur stared at him, trying to digest that. The fact that Merlin probably had magically heightened senses that Arthur could never hope to compete with. Another new thing to get used to, especially as the dragon did become visible to Arthur seconds later, the creature arching in the sky and returning to the clearing.
It was strange, how he suddenly found himself disappointed that their conversation was at an end. Arthur had been preparing to confront Merlin all day, but the return of the dragon meant Arthur's return to Camelot. A place where Merlin could no longer exist for him to confide in.
But just for now , that is, Arthur thought, and he took comfort in that. When he was king, things would be different. He couldn't allow himself to forget that.
In a rush of wings, the dragon landed back in the clearing, and this time Arthur didn't flinch in fear. That was progress, and it was Gwen's face that popped up from beyond the dragon's head this time around, smiling wide.
"Have fun, did you?" Merlin called out to her, and Gwen was practically glowing with happiness as she dismounted the dragon. Unlike Merlin, she didn't fall over, returning to solid ground gracefully despite her skirts.
"That was amazing ," Gwen gushed, her curls windswept as she ran to them, giving Merlin another big hug in thanks. "You're right, there is nothing like it! I can't even describe it. You really must try it, Arthur."
"I'm sure I will have to eventually," Arthur said with a small chuckle, although the idea still made his skin crawl. He had a bad feeling his reaction to dragon riding would be less like Gwen's and more like Gaius'. The poor physician was just now dismounting, moving away from them all so he could throw up into the bushes. "Did Gaius survive?"
"He… struggled a bit," Gwen admitted, and Merlin looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh. "He'll be okay, I think. And how about you two? Have a nice chat?"
Gwen touched Arthur's hair at this with amusement, and Arthur had completely forgotten about the flower crown Merlin had made for him. He took it off, smiling a little as he twirled the crown on his finger. "Yes, something like that," he said, and he biffed Merlin a bit with his elbow. "Things are a little different now, but not altogether different."
"Ow, hey, speak for yourself!" Merlin complained, rubbing at his ribs. "I'm not your servant anymore. You can't treat me like your personal training dummy. Those days are over."
"Are you quite sure?" Arthur asked, and he went to shove Merlin playfully, but to his surprise, he found himself unable to move. Merlin's eyes shone gold, a bit of mirth on his face as he held Arthur back with magic.
Arthur leveled him with a glare—mostly because that was all he was capable of doing. "Feels good, does it?"
"A bit," Merlin said with a hint of smugness, and he released Arthur, mobility returning to Arthur's limbs. "Not the first time I've done it to you, if I'm being honest. Do you remember when we first met? In the market?"
"Oh, I do," Gwen said, and her eyes were glittering. Happy to see them back to normal. A new normal, that was. "If I remember correctly, Arthur nearly took your head off with a mace, didn't he?"
"He did indeed," Merlin confirmed, and he looked back to Arthur with a touch of pride. "But I stopped him. Using magic."
Arthur's eyes went wide at the confession, a sudden wave of indignation flowing through him. Recalling how Merlin had fared better in that fight than he'd had any right to. "You cheated!"
"Didn't cheat," Merlin defended himself, and with a wave of his arm, he created a breeze that knocked Arthur off his feet in one fell swoop. All the breath left Arthur's lungs as he crashed to the grass, winded, and Merlin loomed above him triumphantly.
"Just used my resources to bring you down a notch, is all," Merlin continued, and he possessed the smuggest smile Arthur had ever witnessed on another human being. "That fight feels like a long time ago now, doesn't it? You certainly were a prat before I came around to humble you, you know."
He looked right pleased with himself, knocking Arthur off his feet, and Arthur huffed. "Think you've cured me, is that it?" he shot back, but he accepted Merlin's outstretched arm, letting the sorcerer hoist him back up. He would normally hate such embarrassment, but he figured he deserved it, and it was fascinating to see Merlin utilise his magic. To witness how his friend was able to completely best him in combat, all this time, and yet he'd kept it a secret.
"Cured you from what, being a prat?" Merlin clarified, and he raised an eyebrow. "Hmm, I don't know. Jury's still out on that one. Perhaps I should test you on it, Arthur. Create a trial of my own design to see if you're worthy of being king?"
His tone was light, teasing, and Arthur sighed, brushing grass off his back. He really was getting humbled today. "Alright, I suppose I deserve that one."
"I'll stop," Merlin promised, and he held up his hands in surrender. "Truce? No more teasing? All forgiven?"
"All forgiven," Arthur agreed with relief, and then he pulled both Gwen and Merlin into a hug. Holding them close, relishing the moment, and from over Guinevere's shoulder, Arthur locked eyes with Gaius from across the way. The physician smiled at him, approval in his old face for the first time in weeks. A fatherly pride for the steps Arthur had taken, and that filled him with more happiness than Uther could ever hope to achieve.
He never wanted to let go. He was cherishing a moment of bliss that he knew wouldn't last, but Arthur did let go, and Merlin sighed, clearly feeling the same. The former servant looked to Arthur once more, granting him one more smile before he turned to his dragon.
"I'm coming, okay?" he said to the creature, sounding annoyed. "You don't need to chide me in my head anymore. You can talk freely in front of everyone now."
"In your…?" Arthur began to ask, but he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, and Gaius chuckled.
"There is much to fill you in on, Arthur," the physician said. "Perhaps I can do so over breakfast."
"That would be good," Merlin agreed, and he crossed his arms, looking to the sky. Arthur did too, and he was surprised to see the beginnings of daylight blooming on the horizon. Had they really been out all night? "I can come back tomorrow evening, if you'd like, but I'd best be going for now. It's not smart for me to be near Camelot in the daylight, and besides. I have a meeting to attend."
"Meeting?" Arthur echoed, his mind struggling to think of who Merlin could possibly be seeing. "A meeting with who?"
A mischievous sparkle entered Merlin's eyes, and Arthur wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. "An old friend of yours, actually," Merlin answered, and Arthur's mind whirled to decipher who that would be. "I thought he might be interested in learning what has transpired these past few days. That, and if your reign is near, how you may consider letting some non-nobles join your knights. A repealing of the First Code of Camelot, perhaps?"
His hints were obvious, and Arthur couldn't help but grin. "Lancelot," he inferred, and Merlin nodded.
"I sent him a letter, too," he explained, and Arthur could see excitement written in Merlin's every feature at the thought of being reunited with their friend. "We're due to meet in a tavern, so I'm hoping we might see another friendly face. I've heard reports of bar fights there. Odds are high."
Gwaine. Arthur shook his head, marveling at Merlin's scheming. "What exactly are you playing at, Merlin?" he asked. "Raising me a little secret army? Rounding up all the men my father has exiled?"
"Something like that," Merlin said, and he backed up to the dragon, placing a hand on its scaly side. Preparing to leave. "There are people out there that want you as king, Arthur," he reminded, and Arthur squirmed a little at the implications of that. "People who have chosen you as their sovereign, and not just because of your birth status. Don't you ever forget that. There's power there that your father can't begin to imagine."
"And I suppose you know a thing or two about power beyond imagination?" Arthur teased, and Merlin laughed, hoisting himself up onto Kilgarrah's back with the help of a gust of magical wind.
"Me? Powerful? I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, and then he was off, the dragon taking to the air with its mighty wings once again. Merlin rose towards the dawn sky, beginning to disappear in the clouds, and as he did, Arthur's flower crown sailed from his hands back to his head, glittering with Merlin's magic. A temporary goodbye from Merlin, and standing together, Arthur, Gwen, and Gaius all watched the sorcerer ascend into the clouds, off to join Lancelot and Gwaine in exile. An exile that will not last forever, Arthur reminded himself. An exile that would end the day a real crown rested upon his head.
The three of them stayed until Merlin and the dragon had disappeared completely. Waiting in silence until the two magical beings were truly gone, the morning tendrils of the sun starting to stretch their way to the castle towers. A new day arriving in Camelot, and as Arthur turned to lead the way back home, for the first time in a long while his mind was alight with positive thoughts. Useful thoughts. Plans. Hopes. Dreams. Decisions. It was all still a bit much to wrap his mind around—a future that felt like something a bard would laud. A fleeting, fictional dream of glory.
But perhaps it didn't have to be. A vision of a Camelot where sorcerers, nobility, and townspeople lived peacefully alongside one another. A righteous kingdom where the past was not forgotten, but rather dutifully reconciled. A land built up on the trust of the people in their leader, and a king built up by his trust in his friends. Perhaps such a future was possible, and perhaps such a future lay ahead of them all. A golden sunrise in the name of King Arthur.
And wouldn't that be something beautiful to behold?
End
(End Notes: Thank you all for reading! Truly, I am forever thankful and it gives me such joy to read your comments and it's truly a pleasure to be a part of such a wonderful fandom!
Real quick, if anyone's curious, this is a short list of what I'm planning to work on in the future! As we know, I'm super slow, but I will get around to finishing these things and posting them eventually!
- First off, a sequel to this fic! The more I wrote this fic, the more I wondered what would happen after the events of it. How would Morgana's attack on Camelot go, if she and Morgause knew of Merlin's magic? Obviously things would go completely differently. I'm considering writing a sequel to this fic primarily from Morgana's POV, zeroing in on her and her thoughts while giving her the "reconciliation" arc we didn't see in canon. (I say 'reconciliation,' as it's not really a redemption. She's not really in the wrong! Maybe just not the best way to go about it). I'd love to explore a reconciliation between her and Arthur, her and Merlin, and how the downfall of Uther would go down in this AU. So, no promises, but I am working on that!
- Secondly, I want to mention a fic I have been working on for years now. I haven't posted any of it, and probably won't start posting it until it's done, as I'd like to post a chapter weekly. So it may be a while off now, but it's my "Season 6" fic and it's massive, lol. It's canon compliant, and I'm doing it in a Once Upon A Time format where it flips between modern day (Arthur's return) to immediately following Arthur's death in the past, each flashback connecting to what happens in modern day. I'm really excited for what I have fleshed out, and there's lots of suspense, original characters, Arthurian myth, other Celtic myth, and real-life locations (many of which I have studied or visited at length!) Eventually I will get that to you all, and I'm really excited for that day! Until then, I've been kind spamming some of my headcanons on my Tumblr ( flight-of-fantasy if anyone is on there! I'll follow back! My blog is mostly Merlin gifs and nerding out in the tags, lol).
- Small crack fic in the works, but I'm hoping to do a fic based on the episode "In Like Flynn" from Tangled the Series where Merlin and Uther end up going on a mission together to save Arthur's life. Merlin has to keep his magic secret while dealing with Uther being very bad at sneaking around an enemy castle. Short and sweet, so I'm hoping to have that up soon.
- Lastly, I'm hoping to do the After Camlann Big Bang challenge this year! I have a story idea that I'm very excited about. Can't say more on that one, as part of the challenge is remaining anonymous with summaries until posting, but I've wanted to do After Camlann for years so I'm very excited!
That's all for now, folks! Thank you so much if you read all these rambling notes at the end, I really appreciate it! Also for any British English-speaking folks, I'd love to know how I've done on that! I'm American and trying my best, lol.
Love you all! - FoF )