The Power of Three

Chapter Seven: Conversations

True to his word, Arthur made Merlin sit across from him at the prince's table until Merlin had answered all of his questions - and Arthur had a lot of questions.

First, he looked Merlin square in the eye and said, "I don't know why, but for some reason, I trust you. It probably has something to with the number of times that you have saved my life," he admitted after a short pause. At Merlin's self-conscious grin, he added, "Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself. As my servant, risking your life to save mine is just your duty. However," he regarded Merlin critically, as if gauging his reaction, "I will say that I have never had a sorcerer try to save my life before. In my recent experience, most sorcerers want to kill me, not keep me alive."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm … one of a kind."

Arthur snorted. "That, I believe." A beat, then, "But why?"

"Why am I one of a kind?" Merlin appeared genuinely confused. "Didn't you just say-?"

"Why do you keep trying to save my life instead of take it?" Magic or not, dealing with Merlin was exhausting. Did increased magic mean decreased brain function? If so, Merlin would have to be the most powerful sorcerer Arthur had ever heard of.

"Oh, that." Again, Merlin shrugged. "I don't know, it's just… right?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow in what he hoped was a passable impersonation of Gaius.

"Do I need a reason to want to save you?" Merlin asked, throwing his hands in the air.

"Is there something wrong with you?" Arthur asked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Merlin appeared to be thoroughly taken aback by the seemingly unconnected question.

"I mean, besides the usual. After all, all my life I have heard that magic is evil, and so are those that practice it. And true to what I have seen, every sorcerer I have encountered has tried to do me in, most recently the mysterious woman at the Caves of Balor. If this is true, then something must be wrong with you. Why would you save the son of a man who would hang you without a second thought if he knew what you were?" Merlin shifted uncomfortably. "Are you using me?" Arthur almost felt bad for asking the question, knowing the truth but needing to ask anyway, just in case. Just to be thorough.

Hurt bloomed in Merlin's eyes. "What on earth would I be using you for?" he demanded. "What possible benefit could I gain from following you around, cleaning up after you all day?"

"Perhaps to gain my trust. To get close to me so that you can have access to my father." It sounded ridiculous even as Arthur said it.

Merlin laughed, a hint of bitterness mixed with amusement. "Trust me, Arthur, if I were an evil sorcerer set on revenge against your father, I'm sure there would be better ways to get close to him than letting his pompous prat of a son boss me around."

Arthur graciously let the insult slide. "Then why do you do it? Why do you save me? Wouldn't killing my father as well as me pave the way to your freedom?"

Merlin shook his head, disturbed. "Why would I do that? That would just sow more fear and hatred. And why would I want to gain freedom by violence? Is that really freedom at all?"

Merlin's words seemed to touch Arthur's soul. He cocked his head, realizing that he had only begun to discover all the many facets of Merlin. Who knew he could be so… wise?

"Where did you get that from?" Arthur asked, half-teasing. "You can't have come up with it on your own. It's far too wise."

Merlin's cheeks flushed at the veiled half-praise and then supplied, "A book."

"And what else did this 'book' tell you? What purpose could there be in saving me, then, instead of standing by passively and letting the old woman kill me at that banquet? Surely your conscience would be clear then."

"No, I told you already. I did it because it was right. You didn't deserve to die any more than her son did just for having magic."

"Why continue on as a servant then? Let me 'boss you around' as you put it? If you have magic, why would you not use it for something other than shortcuts on chores and to falsify legal documents?"

Merlin's face blanched. "You know about that?"

Arthur bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "I do now." His eyes pierced Merlin's with an intense glare. "Now, answer my question. Why be a servant? Why save my life?"

"I…" Merlin hesitated, and Arthur could tell he was trying to decide what to say, or how much to say. Was Merlin hiding something else from him? A moment later, however, Merlin finally responded, "I believe that someday, a long, long time in the future, that you are going to be a great king. I want to see the Camelot that you build someday, and I want to help you build it, even if it is from your shadow as a servant."

"And what if I were to decide to continue the ban on magic when I became king?" Arthur asked, watching the embers of pain spark in Merlin's eyes before dying just as quickly. "Would you still follow me, still help me build this Camelot you speak of? Or is a Camelot with magic legalized your only goal in all of this?" He found himself to actually be a bit anxious about the answer.

Merlin thought for a long time before he responded, but when he did, his voice did not waver with indecision. If anything, he sounded more confident than he had before. "Even if you chose to keep magic outlawed, I would still stand by you. Gods know why, but I believe in you and the world you can create. It would be kind of hard to protect you and help you build that world if my very existence is illegal, though, wouldn't it?"

This was a perfect segway into Arthur's next series of questions. Blinking rapidly to ease the completely uncalled for stinging behind his eyes at Merlin's words, he questioned, "Well, can't you just stop using magic?"

Arthur's question sank like a stone, solidifying into a heavy mass in Merlin's stomach. It left an acrid taste in his mouth and he had to remind himself that Arthur didn't know what he was really asking, had no way of knowing that Merlin was in many ways magic. How could he know that Merlin hadn't chosen to use magic, but magic itself had chosen to manifest in him? How could he know that he was asking, "Well, can't you just stop breathing?"

He, to his credit, seemed to recognize that what he had said had struck a very sour note in his servant, and he almost looked offended as he followed up with another question, "Is magic that important to you, that you can't give it up, even for this dream you say you believe in?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's not that. It's just… I didn't choose to do magic, Arthur."

"What do you mean? Of course you did."

"No, I didn't. Magic chose me."

Arthur let out a little nervous laugh. "What does that mean? You're not making any sense!"

And so Merlin explained - he told Arthur of how on the day he was born, his mother had watched with fear and amazement as her infant son had levitated in her arms, tiny hands reaching for the simple necklace around she wore. How his entire life, magic had come to him as naturally - more naturally - than walking, or talking. How his mother had warned him from the time he could understand her to hide his gifts, to pretend to be normal, because his very existence could get them both killed. How he had one friend back home who had found out and had become Merlin's confidant, had thought his magic was something special instead of something to fear, and had slowly started showing Merlin that maybe his very existence wasn't wrong after all. He spoke of living in constant fear for his life, the words chasing one another out of his mouth almost faster than he could articulate them, years of built-up fear and emotions surging forth to a person that Merlin never would have dreamed having this kind of conversation with.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, agonizing and exhausting, and it felt like his very soul poured into his words. It felt … good.

When he stuttered to a stop, he glanced back up from where he had been fixated on a spot on the table and saw a stunned, pained expression on Arthur's face. Terror nipped at his heart. Had he said too much? Was Arthur overwhelmed, considering changing his mind? Did he think that Merlin was completely mad?

Tentatively, Merlin spoke up, "...Arthur?"

Arthur answered in just as hesitant a tone: "If that's true, then it means that by the laws of Camelot, just your existence is evil. My father's reign would have you killed just for being born." An aura of guilt lingered about his words.

"It's true," Merlin acknowledged. "Though as far as Gaius knows, I'm the only person to ever have been born with magic, and to be able to use it naturally, without studying. He says…" Merlin heaved a burdened sigh in the weight of all that loomed before him. "He says I have a great destiny. That I am something unknown, something new." He shook his head, overwhelmed. "I don't know about that, but what I do know is that asking me to stop using magic is like asking me to stop eating, or stop breathing. Magic is a part of me, I can't control it. If you asked me to go without magic, I would try… but it might kill me."

Arthur's face was cupped in his hands by the time Merlin finished his speech. Slowly, he lowered his arms and looked over at Merlin with confusion and sadness in his gaze. "Then why come to Camelot? Why stay here? Why protect me?"

"Because that destiny Gaius spoke of, I believe that it is you." Merlin didn't know why he refrained from mentioning the dragon to Arthur, but he couldn't bring himself to admit his fairly regular rendezvous with the great lizard imprisoned beneath the castle, not yet.

"Me?" Arthur now looked completely out of his depth, more vulnerable than Merlin had ever seen him, and the sorcerer hated it.

"Protecting you, serving you. Helping you build the Camelot I spoke of earlier." He grinned. "Keeping you from being too much of a prat."

Arthur chuffed a bit manically. "I'm still your prince, Merlin," he reminded.

"And I'm still your servant, magic or no," Merlin rebounded, steadily keeping eye contact with his prince.

Clearing his throat and squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, Arthur continued his questioning, "And is this the only reason you stay in Camelot, that you protect me?"

Merlin ducked his head, an excruciating awkwardness trickling down his spine like cold water. Was Arthur really going to make him say it? And to what end? So the prince could mock him for having emotions like a normal person did?

Arthur's stare was unrelenting, so Merlin huffed and muttered, "For some weird reason, you're not all that terrible to be around all the time. Sometimes, you feel almost like…" He trailed off, but didn't continue. After all, as Arthur continuously reminded him, he was Merlin's prince, his master. Besides, for all the grief Merlin gave Arthur about his aversion to emotions, Merlin wasn't too adept at navigating or expressing them himself. How could he say those last two words to Arthur, knowing that at best, Arthur would tease him for them, at worst get angry.

Thankfully, Arthur didn't force Merlin to finish his sentence, but clapped his hands together, stood up, his chair grumbling against the floor as it was scooted back, and said, "I need to get ready to train the knights now."

Surprised, Merlin stood as well, eyeing Arthur warily. "I thought we were staying here until we talked through everything?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I thought we had established that you're a self-sacrificing idiot who has no idea what self-preservation is, and that you are definitely not smart enough to be evil. Is there something else you failed to tell me about?"

Merlin hesitated, a great golden dragon flapping in his mind's eye, but he shook his head, again unsure of why he kept Kilgharrah to himself but clinging on to his last little secret like it was a lifeline. "No," he said. "That's all."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Arthur snapped. "Go fetch my armor and bring it to the training grounds. We'll be training with the mace and the battle axe today."

Merlin's heart beat a little faster. "Does this mean that you're letting me stay here, in Camelot?"

Arthur shot his servant a perplexed look. "...Yes?"

"And you're not sacking me?"

"For heaven's sake, Merlin, why would I sack someone who has the ability to save my life? I'd be as idiotic as you are if I fired you and then went and got myself killed by an evil sorcerer the next day. No, I reckon you are more useful than you look. Maybe what you lack in general competence as a servant, you can make up for in watching my back for magical threats."

"With magic?" Merlin entreated, heart flip-flopping in ecstatic disbelief.

"Well, considering you're more useless than a toddler when it comes to traditional weapons and defending yourself, I would hope you would use magic to protect me. Otherwise, I'd be dead by morning."

Merlin wondered if Arthur knew just how monumental his words were, the balm they offered to Merlin's hatred-scarred soul. Even though Arthur hadn't said whether he planned on undoing his father's law against magic someday, even if a bumpy road still lay ahead, Merlin truly had a place in Camelot. And that place was by Arthur's side, protecting him, just as the Great Dragon had said. Arthur's reaction to learning his magic proved just that.

It was all Merlin could do not to cry.

Then Arthur ruined it by adding, "Oh, and make sure to grab some armor for yourself as well."

Merlin balked. "Why?" he nearly whined.

"You and I will be training some after I finish with the knights."

"But why?" Merlin was definitely whining now and didn't care in the slightest. "I thought now that you know I can protect myself and you with magic, you would stop trying to kill me with pointless training!"

"It's not pointless, Merlin. And magic or not, you need to know how to defend yourself by traditional means as well. Magic may not always be an option. Besides," he snickered, "watching you flail about with a sword is one of the highlights of my day."

It took about a month, but Merlin and Arthur gradually began to find a new normal. Neither was used to the idea of Merlin's magic being out in the open between them, and for a bit, things were a bit tense and sometimes awkward. Arthur had noticed that Merlin generally avoided doing magic in front of him, even when they were alone in his chambers. The prince was both relieved and disappointed about this. Part of him wanted to see more magic, to be able to understand what Merlin could do and what magic really was, but another part of him still had doubts about Merlin practicing it in front of him. Although he no longer ascribed to his father's ideas of magic as unequivocally evil, it was still something unknown, something that he didn't understand, and that, whether he wanted to admit it or not, was scary.

Then, after a couple of weeks of relative avoidance of the subject after their big talk, Arthur, tired of skirting the subject and honestly feeling a bit hurt that Merlin was still avoiding the topic of magic unless Arthur directly mentioned it, "accidentally" knocked a bucket of dirty mop water onto the floor that Merlin had just spent the past hour scrubbing by hand. As Arthur had hoped, Merlin, with the knowledge that his secret was safe, reacted instinctively. His magic caught the water before it could hit the floor and plopped itself neatly back into the bucket that righted itself with a clunk.

"You did that on purpose!" Merlin accused.

Arthur didn't deny it. "Well, I was beginning to think that I had imagined the whole you having magic thing. You never use it around me. Did my words mean nothing to you?"

Merlin blushed. "It's just weird. I've been working so hard to keep this hidden from you for so long that it comes naturally. Plus, it's hard to know how you'll react. You did tell me that if you caught me using magic on my chores that you'd throw me in the stocks, remember?"

"How was I to know you'd actually listen?" For the first time since Arthur had found out about Merlin's magic, he actually asked the question that he had been steadfastly avoiding for weeks, almost afraid of the answer. "Merlin, I was wondering… Exactly how powerful are you?"

Merlin looked at Arthur in surprise. "I'm actually surprised you haven't asked me that yet. I thought that you would grill me about it the first time we talked about my magic."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "I wanted to, but the conversation got away from us, I suppose." Translation: The conversation had gotten too sappy, and Arthur had had to bow out before his levels of discomfort and awkwardness reached their peak. "And then, you didn't seem too keen on offering anything up about your magic, or even mentioning it at all. I told you I trusted you, and then it was like it counted for nothing."

"It did," Merlin reassured him, taking a step forward in his earnestness. "It's just difficult to know how to talk about this with you. I mean, you're the son of Uther Pendragon, the king who hates magic above anything else. You're already in a strange position, being stuck between your father and me." He shrugged. "I thought you'd be happier if things went back to normal, with the added bonus of knowing you have a sorcerer watching your back."

Arthur cracked a thin smile at this. "I guess I expected you to want to share your magic with me after, well, everything." Damn, it was getting too emotional once more. Arthur squared his shoulders and glared at Merlin. "You need to work on your communication skills, Merlin, you're terrible at it!"

Indignant, Merlin retorted, "You're worse at communicating than I am!"

"Then why haven't you answered my question yet, if you're so good at communicating?" Arthur's smug retort quieted Merlin for the breadth of a second.

"Wait, what was the question?"

"You may be terrible at communicating, but you are excellent at proving me right! How powerful are you?"

Merlin grew serious once more. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and said, "I'm not really sure. I guess I must be pretty powerful since I never had to study to do magic, but I'm still untrained. Gaius seems to think I'm something special, but…" He broke off, eyes distant. "I don't even know where this power came from. How am I supposed to know what I'm capable of if I don't even know that?"

Arthur considered this. "And your mother doesn't have magic?"

Merlin shook his head. "No, and she's never even tried to use it."

"What about your father?" Distantly, Arthur couldn't believe it had taken him this long to ask Merlin about his family. The boy had been his servant for how many months now?

A touch of melancholy tinged Merlin's next words. "I… don't know. I never met him."

Arthur thought of his own mother who had died giving birth to him and a pang of sympathy shot through him. "Did he… die?"

Again, Merlin shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think he left, but Mother never talked about him." As an afterthought, he added, "They never married."

"Do you know if he had magic?"

Merlin sent his master an exasperated look. "I just said my mother never spoke of him. I have no idea."

Arthur raised both hands in defense. "Just double checking." He paused. "Do you think he had magic, like you?"

Merlin shrugged a third time. "I've imagined all my life different scenarios. Maybe he was a powerful sorcerer who had a higher calling and left for noble purposes - that was my favorite. But eventually I had to come to the realization that if he isn't dead, then he's a coward who abandoned his family. His having magic wouldn't change that."

Arthur winced in solidarity at the heavy emotions his servant had to be feeling. He hesitated, then briefly put a hand on a scrawny shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said simply, and Merlin grinned.

"It's fine. But I guess I couldn't answer your question. Sorry."

Arthur waved him off. "Can you show me, at least?"

"Show you what?" Merlin side-eyed the prince warily.

"Your magic, idiot."

Merlin stared and smacked his lips like his entire mouth had gone dry in an instant. "You… You're asking me to do magic? Right now?"

Arthur's eyes rolled to the ceiling. "What, are you self-conscious?"

Merlin shook his head, a wild chuckle escaping. "I just never thought that you of all people would…" He took a deep breath. "What do you want to see?"

"Well, nothing too flashy," Arthur advised. "And close the curtains and lock the doors. With the kind of luck you have, someone would come to the door or be staring up from the courtyard at the exact moment you did it, and then I would have to waste time and energy bailing you out of trouble."

In the end, Merlin conjured a butterfly. He expected Arthur to tease him for being girly, but he had just learned this spell and thought the glimmering, innocent spell was the perfect example of how magic could create beauty and peace instead of just death and destruction. To his surprise, Arthur reached out tentatively toward the fluttering insect, but pulled his hand back at the last moment, as if afraid he would make it disappear. He watched it with amazed blue eyes until it came to rest on Merlin's palm and dispersed into glittering fractals, out of existence.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Did you just… create life?"

Merlin frowned. He hadn't thought of it like that before. "I don't think so," he said at last. "It wasn't really alive."

"But it was there," Arthur argued, still staring at the spot it had disappeared. "It wasn't an illusion?"

"No, it wasn't an illusion," Merlin quickly agreed, aghast at the thought of the prince thinking him to be some charlatan. "It was just… magic."

Appearing more unsure of himself than Merlin had ever seen him, Arthur ventured, "Your magic?"

Merlin smiled. "Just an extension of it."

Arthur looked almost impressed, remembered himself, then sniffed haughtily. "Well, this just proves it," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You really are a girl. Do you go out into the woods and frolic in fields of magical butterflies?"

And there was the Arthur that Merlin was familiar with. All jabs and criticism, but Merlin had seen the light in his master's eyes for a few precious seconds. He saw for a short time not mere curiosity about magic, not a tentative acceptance, but an understanding of what magic was at its core - powerful and dangerous in the wrong hands, sure, but also beautiful, natural - a part of life.

It was more than Merlin had ever dreamed.

In the days following, they fell into a sort of rhythm where Merlin gradually began to use magic in front of Arthur when it was safe, though Arthur hated it when Merlin tried to use magic to do his chores - "That's cheating, Merlin!" - and threatened more than once to throw him in the stocks for it. But Merlin didn't mind doing his chores mostly without magic, as he'd grown used to doing. Honestly, if he had to never use magic to clean ever again, it would be worth it having Arthur know his secret and be on his side.

Funnily enough, Merlin never once thought to tell Arthur that Morgana knew about his magic too, or Morgana about Arthur - keeping secrets came so naturally to him. So he said nothing on the matter - that is, until Morgana suddenly fell gravely ill and it looked like only magic would be able to save her.

A/N: Thank you so much to joggerwriting, LRieNGuBleR, Alshert, HalloumiHermit, You10, Meeeeeerlin, winter morning frost, EmrysOfStorybrooke, Taz, weirdhead,Cdnacho98, CrystalFire, padfootl0ve, scylla646, SherlockHolmes4884, and tea and biscuits for me for your lovely reviews, as well as to everyone who read, followed and favorited! Your support is what keeps me writing!

I hope you enjoyed these conversations. I had so much fun writing them. :) As you can tell, next time we will be delving into "A Remedy to Cure All Ills", but we are rapidly approaching a point where things will be diverging even more significantly than they already are, and I'm really psyched about that!

I'd love to know what you thought about this chapter! Next one will be out next Sunday!

~Emachinescat ^..^