Chapter 1: A Trick of the Light
Summary: A simple thing, golden eyes reflected in the glass, and Arthur's world turned upside down.
Camelot Drabble Prompt 522: Trick
Author's notes: I probably won't do more than the 2 chapters here.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
It was a simple thing that changed Arthur's world.
A mirror leaning against the wall and golden eyes.
Merlin knelt there, his fingers busy with wood and flints as he started the fire in Arthur's hearth, muttering something about the cook, Gwaine running from her and her ladle waving madly about.
It was all noise.
At any other time, Arthur would have laughed, encouraged Merlin to spin another tale, settled down to enjoy the shared warmth, but he saw, impossibly, Merlin's eyes glowing bright as the sun.
Arthur didn't answer, didn't know what to say, what to do. And, of course, Merlin was oblivious. Merlin had no idea that his magic, that staggering secret of his, was revealed by something as simple as a reflection in the glass.
Knowing that confrontation would bring denial, that Merlin would say it was a trick of the light or that perhaps Arthur was still recovering from the latest bout of training and start fussing to divert Arthur's attention, Arthur just stood there, gaping down at him as Merlin added more wood to the blaze.
The fire might as well have been ice for all Arthur was feeling.
But Merlin kept rabbiting on, Gwaine's tale turning into a complaint of burnt chicken and no honey cakes, then leaning back, Merlin watched the fire for a moment before standing up and wiping his hands against his worn tunic.
More noise, Merlin asking him something or other, still acting the innocent. Smiling as he lied about who he was, what he was, then that smile turning into a puzzled frown as he played the concerned friend. "Are you all right? You hit your head pretty hard earlier. I could go and get Gaius if you like."
Arthur knew he was in danger, but he was no fool. Playing along would give him time to think, time to plan, time to decide what to do.
Putting on a false smile, Arthur said, "I am sure Gaius is busy with Gwaine's hard head and Mary's lethal ladle."
Merlin snorted at that, laughter hiding the monster beneath. "Gwaine was more concerned with his hair than his head. There was stew everywhere."
As Merlin stepped toward him, Arthur jerked back, instinct already pounding at him. Merlin blinked in surprise, but Arthur turned away, walking over to the table and looking down at the sword Merlin had just finished sharpening.
Heart beating as if trying to escape his chest, already the fight in him rising to meet magic's threat, instead of reaching for the blade, Arthur said, "I think I'll turn in. You are dismissed."
The sorcerer almost sounded concerned as he said, "Are you sure? Usually we —."
He couldn't say Merlin's name, refused to say it ever again. Instead, he said, sharp and final, "Go back to Gaius. I will see you in the morning."
Ignoring the false hurt in Merlin's eyes, Arthur watched as he shuffled out the door, then Arthur quickly bolted it.
He had a night to decide. A night to plan on how to take out the sorcerer before it was too late. A night to think and think and then do what was right for Camelot.
And after, he'd mourn what could have been.
Chapter 2: Façade
Summary: Surely Arthur hadn't seen Merlin use magic this time. After all, Merlin used magic all the time and Arthur never noticed. From Merlin's POV
Camelot Drabble Prompt 523: Masquerade
Arthur was acting really weird, looking at Merlin as if he had soot on his face, as if he were dirt underneath his feet or something. Less than a person, more like a puzzle that he didn't want to solve.
Giving him a grin, Merlin sat back and nodded toward the fire he'd just started, thinking that the gossip about Gwaine and the cook chasing him with a stew-covered ladle might turn Arthur's scowl into laughter. But instead, when Merlin got up and started toward him, Arthur jerked back, stomping over to the table and staring down at the newly sharpened sword.
Then Arthur dismissed Merlin as if he couldn't wait to be rid of him.
It was odd, it was worrying, and it set off alarm bells in Merlin's head as he walked away.
Thinking back, wondering why Arthur was acting the way he was, it finally hit him. Merlin had been impatient with the wet wood and useless flints. He had used magic to start the fire.
It couldn't be that Arthur saw him, could it? Surely, Arthur would have confronted him, would have threatened him, would have grabbed for the sword or called for guards. Not this cold dismissal.
No, it was just Merlin worrying, as he had every day he had been in Camelot, worrying that the façade he used to hide who he truly was had finally been pieced. Merlin worried about everything and sometimes he saw shadows when there were none.
No, Arthur couldn't have seen him, or Merlin would already be dead.
Someday, he hoped that Arthur would see him properly, as friend, as confidant, as someone who would protect Arthur all the days of his life, someone who used magic for Arthur and him alone.
But today would not be that day.
