He cut a sorry figure, crouching in the slushy street and scrambling to pick up all his papers. Gwen waited for a second until Arthur and his two goons were a safe distance away, then jogged over and picked up one of the boy's books, brushing the dirty snow off it.

"Are you alright…?" A pair of slate-blue eyes turned up at her under a fringe of messy black hair.

"Yeah. Er… thanks." He accepted the book from her and tucked it into his backpack.

"You're Merlin, aren't you? Gauis' nephew." She hastily gathered a few more papers as the boy retrieved some by his feet, trying to shake the wet slush from them.

"That's me." He smiled a little and got to his feet, accepting her handful of damp papers. "But most people just call me 'idiot'." She laughed and shook her head.
"Don't listen to Arthur and his posse." She extended a hand. "I'm Guinevere, but everyone calls me Gwen." She hesitated as he took her hand. "I saw what you did yesterday. I thought it was really brave."

"It was stupid," Merlin said with a shrug.

"Not stupid." She disagreed instantly. "Arthur's a bully. Everyone thought you were brave, standing up to him." Merlin smiled a little.

"Didn't amount to much, but thanks."

"Well, I'm glad it didn't really come to blows," Gwen said. "You weren't going to beat him." The boy looked a little affronted, and his expression almost made her laugh.

"Oh, I could beat him," he said. Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"You could?" She tilted her head slightly. What was it with boys and needing to 'win' fights? "Because you don't look like one of those big muscly fellows."

"Er... thanks?" Merlin frowned.

"No, no, I mean... I'm sure you're stronger than you look." Gwen backtracked quickly. "It's just... Arthur's one of those rough, tough save-the-world kind of guys. And you..." Gwen's face flushed at Merlin's quizzical expression. "Well... you don't look like that," she finished, lifting her shoulders. Arthur was a different build. The athlete type; the jock. Merlin… he didn't look weak, but… to her surprise, Merlin broke into a smile. He leaned forward, the smile still bright in his eyes though he assumed a supremely solemn lock.

"I'm in disguise."

She'd been as blind as Arthur. In nearly a decade of friendship, it had never occurred to Gwen that those words were anything more than a joke. Merlin had left for the negotiations as her childhood friend, classmate, and confidante. He had returned with Arthur, both of them a little battered but intact, and suddenly Merlin returned with a new name and title; Emrys, powerful sorcerer and warlock. Merlin's name and identity along with Arthur's new alliance broke on the news like a dam.

Arthur Pendragon Allies with a Sorcerer

Uther's Legacy Lost: Arthur Pendragon Calls for Amnesty

Who is Merlin Emrys? The Druidic Legend

The headlines turned out not to be the biggest shock that rocked her world that week. The mystique, the excitement, the hopes, and Merlin's legendary name had melted away when the negotiations ended in uproar. She doubted if she'd ever be able to shake from her mind the image of Arthur, coming back in a bloodstained shirt with a haunted look in his eyes. He'd hardly spoken, and neither of them had slept that night.

Gwen stirred awake, catching herself with a hand on Arthur's knee as her head lolled forward off his shoulder. The room around her was quiet. The TV screen, still flickering in a corner, had been muted, and only two of the other occupants who had been sitting with them remained. Arthur was snoring softly, slid down in the chair with his lips parted and legs stretched out before him, dead to the world. He'd been so quiet since returned. The lost look he bore since the negotiations hadn't changed for over a day.

She gently adjusted Arthur's hoodie behind his head like a pillow and brushed his hair back, listening to the peace in the room for a moment. It was good to see him rest, even if out of exhaustion rather than choice. In the wake of the disaster that followed the negotiations, they had both felt as if the world should've stopped turning. Nothing could possibly feel okay after that. Yet the rest of the world had moved on, subdued and shocked but determined. Even as Rodor moved against the attacks across England from Cenred, Mithian and her Coalition got the wheels turning in government. Election plans were underway, but had called a special Joint session to act on their decisions. Both the New Liberals and General Rodor moved with their new Druid contingents in lock-step, helping to neutralize the attacks as well as working rapidly to build legislation for their plans. Rumor was that Morgause's alliance was falling apart, and the Druid contingents who had supported Cenred along with her had fled.

Her shoulders and neck felt tense from sleeping in a strange position. She rubbed her eyes, taking a deep breath that made her ribs ache and leaned her head against the side of Arthur's again, closing her eyes as she listened to the murmur of voices at reception and down the hall, the footsteps nearby, the soft whoosh of doors opening and closing.

Something tickled her nose. She huffed faintly and opened her eyes. One of the frayed ends of the strings on Arthur's hoodie was brushing her face. She pushed it away and blinked as it shimmied its way back up and tickled her nose again.

"Mmmmph…" She put a hand on Arthur's chest and sat up halfway, rubbing her nose with one hand. The string arched up like a snake rearing its head, and she stared. She'd been missing too much sleep, clearly. "Arthur," she said over a yawn, tapping his chest. The string dropped, then Arthur's hood tugged itself down over his face, and Arthur startled awake with a grunt, tugging at the fabric to free himself. She looked up abruptly and nearly toppled out of her chair in her rush to get to her feet.

Behind her, Arthur was blinking owlishly in the light of the waiting room as he pulled the hood down off his tousled blond hair.

"Wha–?" he blinked and pulled his head back as one of the strings flicked itself across his face and started batting at it with a baffled look as if it were a fly. Gwen stared at him for the barest second before turning her head as a half-hysterical laugh burst out of her.

"You're up!" The smile she got in return was enough to make the aches worth it. Visitors had been very limited post operation, and he'd been laid out in a hospital bed with an oxygen mask. It was a welcome change, seeing Merlin awake, alert, and out of a hospital bed at last. He was still dressed in a loose shirt covering the bandages around his torso.

"As up as I'm allowed to be. I can walk," Merlin complained, tipping his head to look up at Hunith who had stopped the wheelchair just inside the waiting room.

"You can and you won't," Hunith said, brushing his hair back off his forehead.

"Can I…?" Gwen stopped beside the chair, biting her lip. He reached up for her and she gave him a ginger hug as he put an arm around her.

"How are you feeling?" Gwen asked.

"Like I got stabbed in the back." Merlin grinned up at her as Arthur reached them, rolling his eyes.

"Apparently your terrible sense of humor is intact," he said. Hunith's expression suggested she didn't find the comment any funnier than Arthur or Gwen.

"He's all intact." Another figure stepped through the doors behind Hunith. Gwen reluctantly let go of Merlin to step past the chair.

"Should you be back at work?" She leaned over to give Lance the squeeze hug she couldn't give Merlin yet.

"Nowhere I'd rather be. I'm here by request," he answered, putting an arm around her shoulders to give her a squeeze in return. "Had to look after this one," he added with a nod at Merlin. "You'll need a couple follow ups, and you should take the painkillers. Don't try to be a hero. But some antibiotics and down time should set things right."

"Good to see you again, Lance." Arthur reached over Merlin's head to take his hand.

"Good to be back in my own head." Lance patted Merlin's shoulder once he let go. "Just do me a favor and make sure he takes it easy. I don't want to see him back here needing new stitches."

"He's given us all enough ulcers for a lifetime," Arthur agreed, putting a hand on the arm of the wheelchair with a frown. Merlin tipped his head back to look up at Arthur with a bright grin.

"Were you worried about me?" he asked. Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"How much did you give him?" she asked, earning a laugh from Lance. Arthur pulled a face.

"No. I'm very comfortable with my friends bleeding out in my arms," he said dryly.

"Arthur." Gwen gave him a reproachful look as the smile faded from Merlin's face.

"Too soon for jokes?" Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Too soon," Arthur agreed without an ounce of real annoyance, rolling his eyes as he stepped back to retrieve something he'd left on the chair where he'd been asleep just minutes before. There was the hint of a smile behind the expression nonetheless.

"Ready to go?" she asked Merlin.

"Ready to get out of here. No offense." Merlin looked back at Lance who shrugged.

"The goal was to get you out of here," he said. Arthur had stepped past Gwen, though, dropping something into Merlin's lap.

"Thought you might be missing this." There was a pause, then Merlin took the soft blue fabric from him, looking a little shocked as he unrolled the scarf. "You always had your fingers tangled in that damn thing whenever anyone talked about magic. Since you lost yours, figured I'd get you another." Arthur tucked one hand into his pocket and shrugged. Merlin was stretching the blue scarf between his hands in quiet bewilderment. He glanced up at Arthur, and there was a moment of silence before he laughed weakly.

"I might not need it anymore," he said. The smile that tugged at Arthur's lips was more noticeable this time as Merlin looped the scarf loosely around his neck. "Thanks."

"Let's get you home." Arthur stepped out of the way so Hunith could steer the chair towards the elevator.

"How is it down there?" Hunith asked, watching Gwen hit the ground floor button.

"Percival said it hasn't changed much. He's waiting to escort us to the van," she reported.

"What's… down there?" Merlin gave her an apprehensive frown. Arthur's eyes lit up with amusement.

"Your fan club."

"My what?" Merlin tried to twist around and look at him and immediately leaned back with a hiss.

"Easy. Sit back." Hunith patted his shoulder as he closed his eyes for a moment. Gwen shifted a step forward. She didn't have much hope of shielding Merlin from view nonetheless. The press cluster was visible the moment the elevator doors opened, through the automatic doors to the lobby.

"Welcome back, Merlin." Percival was waiting with a smile as Hunith wheeled him out. "You alright?"

"Think so…?" Merlin had his fingers buried in the soft blue scarf already. He was watching the many camera-persons outside the door with wide eyes. "What are they doing here?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"Looking for you," Arthur answered, putting a hand on the back of the chair. Merlin turned a baffled look on Percival.

"They're celebrating," Percival said. "We all are. It didn't feel like a complete victory until now."

"Come on. We've done this before." Arthur tapped the arm of the chair, catching Merlin's attention and tearing his eyes from the people outside. "You know how to deal with the press."

"Yeah, when they were there for you," Merlin retorted. Arthur grinned and fell in next to Percival, reaching for Gwen's hand as Hunith steered Merlin towards the doors.

"Welcome to the club, Merlin."

Home had stopped being a place for them a while ago. In the last months they'd left their Oxford flat behind with most of their belongings. For Merlin—even for Arthur by now—home was where their people had gathered. And somehow, against all odds, that had become the Druid refuge.

The Dartmoor neighborhood had come alive. No longer were the faces peering at him from behind curtains or hedges, watching warily half out of sigh. People came out of their houses into the open to watch as they arrived. Arthur felt the open stares, the wide eyed curiosity, but perhaps more than anything else, the familiarity at this point—faces and voices he knew as he stepped out of the van. One absence, however, was keenly felt. He'd never arrived at Dartmoor without a head of curly black hair and lively blue eyes greeting him, usually at the car as he pulled up. He was scanning the faces as he got out, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.

"Merlin!" Freya was the first to reach them, breathless and bright-eyed. She reached for Merlin's arm as Hunith and Arthur helped him out. "They're voting. Right now, they're streaming it inside!" Arthur stepped aside to let her take Merlin's arm as Gwen climbed out of the van behind him. Gwen caught at his elbow with a sharp intake of breath. Aithusa had landed light-footed on top of the van and was peering down at them. Arthur stretched out a hand to her, and she pushed her head into it contentedly.

"Is that…?" Gwen trailed off, staring up at her.

"Aithusa," Arthur confirmed. "This is Gwen." The dragon leaned down to greet her, brushing her nose against Gwen's hand. "Thank you for saving him," he added quietly. He remembered the warmth of Aithusa's healing magic for his ribs before the Negotiations. Merlin hadn't been quite out of the woods, but she'd arrived with Freya, in time to stop the worst from happening. Aithusa blinked at him before stretching her wings and launching herself off the van again into the air, following Merlin, Hunith, and Freya towards the house.

"Arthur Pendragon." Arthur felt Gwen's hand slip into his and squeeze as another familiar face approached. He squeezed Gwen's hand back

"Brigid, this is my girlfriend, Gwen." Brigid extended a hand which Gwen took. She was darting a look between the newcomer and Aithusa who was landing on the sidewalk to follow Merlin and Freya on foot.

"A pleasure to meet you Gwen." She was smiling. He didn't think he'd ever seen Brigid smile before. He was accustomed to the guarded suspicion often in her eyes when she looked at him. "You've more than paid your debt, Arthur. Thank you."

"I didn't do much," Arthur answered. It was clearer every minute as he'd seen Merlin interact with the Druids, with the dragons, with Rodor and Mithian, this had never been about him or what he could do to help. He'd merely been along for the ride. "You should thank Merlin." She shook her head slightly.

"He wouldn't have made it without you." Arthur glanced after Merlin, making his way up to the house between Freya and Hunith.

"Maybe…" He turned back to Brigid. "How is Mordred? We'd like to see him." She hesitated, brows drawn down.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Her gaze strayed after Merlin who was leaning on Freya for support as he walked up the steps. Arthur nodded.

"I'm sure."

"I'll see what I can do." Gwen watched, still looking a little overwhelmed as Brigid vanished behind the hedge of a neighboring house.

"How many of them do you know?" Gwen asked. Arthur shook his head.

"More than I thought." It was perhaps just as much a shock to him as to Gwen, realizing how many friends he had among the Druids—that even as he followed Freya to her door, he knew the steps, knew the crack in her sidewalk bursting with grass and small white flowers, and the ivy growing along the side wall, all the familiar sights he'd seen as he finally recognized Merlin, the Druids, and magic for what they truly were, understood his own feelings about it. He didn't feel like a stranger anymore. Aithusa swooping over his head to land on the steps in front of him hardly made him bat an eye. He couldn't have pinpointed when it happened—when this place and these people had started feeling familiar… even safe.

The house was already full of energy when Arthur and Gwen made it inside. Merlin was settled on the couch with a blanket and water bottle, and Aithusa had her head on his knee. But it was Leon who caught his eye, back on his feet and sporting a cut above his eye, extending a hand to Balinor.

"That was you?" Leon, formerly tasked with finding and arresting sorcerers, wore an enthusiastic smile as he clasped the dragonlord's hand in a firm handshake

"Myself and Doctor Leod." Balinor tilted his head towards Iseldir nearby.

"I've wanted to thank you all this time. I thought for sure I was a dead man."

"We're glad to have helped." Balinor released his hand, and Leon turned towards them.

"Gwen, this is Merlin's father, Balinor." Leon waved her over as she took her shoes off by the door.

"Lovely to meet you." Gwen reached out a hand to greet Balinor with Hunith at his side.

"Likewise. Good to see you again as well, Arthur."

"Good to see you too." Arthur smiled as he stepped past Leon to check on the man of the hour. Merlin had his eyes half closed as he leaned back on the couch.

"Alright?" Arthur put a hand on the arm of the couch and peered down at him. Merlin opened one eye.

"Hmm…. Yeah. Not used to my worlds colliding like this." Arthur looked up as Percival, just in the door, was greeting Iseldir and Gaius.

"Me neither," he agreed. It was strange to think that Merlin's second world had overlapped so often with his own—Iseldir, Brigid, Mordred, Gaius, and more. He'd been so blind. What Merlin kept hidden had always crept into Arthur's life more than he realized. Now, seeing those worlds interact, there was something liberating about how free and open everyone was. Secrets were out. Everyone was relaxed. Gwaine would have loved it. He remembered Gwaine advocating for this peace and amnesty in the bar in Oxford when they first crossed paths. It was what he'd wanted—for the States and for England. The thought left him quiet, listening to the reporter on the live stream, speaking over a running tally of the votes being cast in the House of Commons.

"Merlin… you can make little light figures?" Gwen broke the moment, turning from her conversation with Hunith towards Merlin.

"I used to. At home with mum." He looked shy. Hunith was smiling at him.

"He made little dragons fly about the room. It's amazing," she said. A little color was rising to Merlin's cheeks.

"You could show her," Arthur ventured, raising an eyebrow. Merlin's eyes widened instantly.

"You don't have to do anything." Gwen was quick to interject, and Arthur felt a twinge of guilt. How long had Merlin been afraid of this part of himself, even among friends?

"No, it's okay." Merlin glanced up at Gwen before his eyes flitted to the left where Arthur stood beside the couch. Despite himself, Arthur was leaning forward a little with his hand on the couch back now.

"Come on, Merlin. It's about to be legal, isn't it?" Merlin huffed at him, but he turned his hand over, just above his knees, and Gwen took a little breath when his eyes flickered.

Arthur had seen magic practiced up close a few times now—Iseldir and Aithusa's healing, Merlin's shields, Morgause's flashing curses—but this was something else. It was delicate, unique, and somehow still it spoke of the power deep within its caster. A flicker of fire lit in Merlin's palm, dancing like a natural flame on a candle and casting a warm light over his skin. Merlin took a breath, then exhaled softly over his palm and the candle-like flame stretched into a rippling sheet of light that twisted and morphed into the shape of a tiny dragon, wings spread, crouching over Merlin's palm. It turned its head to regard them each curiously before beating its wings and taking off to soar over the heads of the room's occupants. Gwen watched in awe, and the conversations around her stopped for a moment as Leon, Percival, Iseldir, Gaius, and Balinor all looked up at it. Freya took a careful seat beside Aithusa who was watching the flame dragon with a curious eye, head tilted.

"He showed me a dozen dancing flames on the night he learned about my magic," she said. "I didn't know before I met him that magic could look like that." Gwen nodded faintly. Arthur hardly noticed. The dragon had circled around, and on impulse, he stretched out a hand, palm-up. Merlin turned it towards Arthur's palm, and it landed there light as a feather. Arthur felt a gentle warmth, as if there really were four tiny feet treading across his hand.

"Merlin, it's beautiful," Gwen breathed, reaching out to touch Arthur's hand where the figure stood. The bright smile she got in return was like nothing Arthur had ever seen on Merlin's face.

"It's… it's pretty small. I can do a lot more," Merlin said, but despite the slightly shy response, he looked pleased. His eyes faded back to blue, and the dragon in Arthur's palm vanished without a trace.

"Thank you for showing me," Gwen said quietly. He nodded hesitantly, and Freya reached over to grip his wrist.

"Merlin, they're finishing." Behind them, Arthur heard the door open. Every conversation in the room had stopped, and attention had turned to the screen again. He took a breath and retreated from the couch. He knew without looking who was waiting by the door.

"Mordred," he greeted the newcomer. Brigid stood in the hallway, one hand placed firmly and protectively on her ward's shoulder. "I've been looking for you."

"I thought I wouldn't be welcome with you anymore." Mordred's eyes were fixed on the floor.

"Of course you are. You always made me welcome." Arthur reached out a hand, wary as he saw the tension in the teenager's shoulders. He glanced up, and Brigid let go of Mordred with the smallest nod. He put a hand on Mordred's arm, squeezing gently in reassurance. "You were my first encounter with magic. You advocated for me when I arrived here looking for help. I couldn't have made the connections I did without you. You're always welcome."

"You saw what I did." Mordred shook his head.

"That wasn't your fault. None of us blame you. Certainly not Merlin." His voice was firm. The look in Morgana's eyes had been enough to confirm that. He felt the same twist in his gut thinking about it. Morgana had fought Mordred, struggling to keep him away from the fight between Morgause and Merlin. There had been little enough he could do. He took a breath. "You were used. Morgause did the same to my friend Lance. She possessed him and sent him to trap myself and Merlin. I would never blame him, nor you for what was done under her control." Morgause must have known that Merlin wouldn't respond as instinctively to a knife attack the way he did to magic. He couldn't imagine Mordred taking a knife to anyone, really, nor using magic to fling him and Morgana aside as he had. Mordred wasn't answering. He frowned. "Mordred," he began, but Mordred had turned abruptly as a shout went up in the room beyond them. Arthur turned, letting his hand drop, and Mordred stepped past him to the end of the hallway.

"It passed! Arthur, the act passed!" Gwen reached for him when he followed them into the living room. Freya had Merlin's hand in hers. Gaius was squeezing Merlin's shoulder as the reporter on the screen spoke over footage of the House members surging out of their seats. Applause was breaking across the room on screen. Aglain and Finna, in attendance in the House, were sharing a hug. Mithian stood between two colleagues, hand-in-hand with them, tears in her eyes. The camera shot changed to one of the cheering crowd outside the house.

"With 437 Ayes and 213 Noes, the House of Commons has delivered an overwhelming vote in favor of the Amnesty Act, pardoning all those in England sentenced for sorcery and decriminalizing its use across the country."

Arthur held his breath as he heard the shouts from outside the house. All around him, people were turning to one another. Brigid had met Iseldir halfway into the room, where he wrapped an arm around her. Beside them, Hunith's eyes were fixed on the screen as she held tight to Balinor, whose face was hidden against her shoulder. Freya had leaned across Aithusa and her head was leaning against Merlin's, both choked up. Arthur looked up and away when he caught her eye briefly. It felt like an intimate moment—one not meant for him. He looped his arm through Gwen's, standing quiet in the flood of emotions from those around them.

"Mordred." Merlin was the first to speak aloud, looking up from the couch. The boy stood in the middle of the room, frozen and staring in disbelief at the screen. His head turned, and he blinked, his throat working. Merlin was smiling at him. "We're free," he said.

"This decision comes only hours after Merlin Astur, called Emrys by the magical community, was released from the hospital. Merlin Emrys and Arthur Pendragon are credited with facilitating peaceful connections which allowed peace negotiations to move forward."

Percival, on-screen, was helping Merlin out of his wheelchair, flanked by Arthur, Hunith, and Gwen. Mordred was shaking his head.

"You freed us."

At Arthur's side, Gwen was squeezing his arm, her head leaning against his shoulder.

"Not alone," Merlin said over a shaky laugh. But then, Arthur thought, which of them would have gotten through any of this alone?

"This is the first in a series of steps to welcome magic back to England, a movement many have claimed is long overdue. England is the third country to grant full amnesty for sorcery, following bills passed in the United States of America and Sweden. Many in England are hopeful that this act, passed after decades of intermittent civil war, will bring much needed peace and stability to their country."

It was a start: a battle won and still a war to fight going forward. Still, the tides were turning. Arthur reached over the back of the couch to squeeze Merlin's shoulder.

"No funny feelings?" he asked. Merlin glanced up at him.

"No." Merlin's smile in return was unreserved as he answered. "This feels right."

There were laws to craft, miles of red tape to untangle, and discrimination to battle. They were all battered and weary from the last round of fighting, and aching from the losses. But despite all that, Arthur felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. Gwaine's sacrifice hadn't been in vain, and all the wounds and weariness were leading to a better future.

Maybe neither of them had believed the prophecies. Maybe he and Merlin weren't living legends, carrying out some centuries old destiny. Maybe this would have happened without them. It didn't matter. They had played a role, however big or small, in something worthwhile. He didn't need any prophecies or legends to know with a deep and grounding certainty: this was right.