A/N: Hey, all! Thank you all for sticking with me through infrequent updates! I appreciate you all! Quick update that this fic will be 13 chapters total, and good news is, I have actually finished the fic! I'm just editing now. So, my plan is to post a chapter every Sunday until it's done, meaning this fic should be complete by the end of the year :) Just thought I'd set a posting schedule for myself as well as the readers so I stop letting this languish! And so I stop editing it into oblivion, haha. Thank you all for reading, I love you all! Enjoy the chapter!

Arthur barely managed to wave Sir Madoc back down to his post before his whole arm began to shake.

It was a familiar feeling to him now, the sensation of shock, and Arthur cursed the tingle of it as it ran down his limbs. His body was finally catching up to everything that had just occurred and the steps of the staircase swayed beneath his boots. Every word that had left Merlin's mouth came crashing down on him in full force and it was only a moment, but within it, Arthur couldn't quite shield his fragile mental state from Madoc. He stumbled against the staircase railing and he saw the guard's eyes widen in surprise at the display of weakness. It shouldn't have happened. Arthur had trained for things like this, prepared himself for facing sorcerers, and yet...

Nothing could have prepared him for Merlin attacking him like that. The dungeon bars hadn't actually touched him, but Arthur had never experienced fear like he had in that moment. The image of Merlin buried in the shadows, his molten eyes the only thing visible in the gloom, was a nightmare Arthur had never imagined for himself. Despite knowing of Merlin's sorcery for days now, Arthur had never truly processed the fact that his manservant could absolutely murder him without a second thought. All that power lay within his fingertips—

And yet, he hadn't done it. Merlin hadn't killed him, or even actually struck him. Instead, he'd pulled back and replaced the bars as if the outburst had never even happened. A display of power beyond Arthur's wildest fears diminished in favour of the Merlin that Arthur knew: a man that spoke his mind, but then left it at that. Left the final decisions up to Arthur and respected his authority at the very same time that he challenged it. It was a paradox within Merlin that Arthur had never been able to put his finger on. He still couldn't. For years now, Merlin would argue with him and tease him until the cows came home only to stand by his side in his time of need without question. He always displayed a loyalty Arthur had never encountered in any other person. It was baffling then and it was baffling now.

But that wasn't the worst part, was it? No, what was worse was that even with all the truths that had come to light, that version of Merlin still existed. It hadn't all been a lie. Merlin had chosen not to escape from his prison. He was still very much the loyal servant he had always been as he rotted down below the castle, voluntarily. So what exactly was he trying to prove to Arthur? That he was powerful and stupid?

Perhaps, and that thought wrecked Arthur more than anything. But it didn't really matter. None of it mattered anymore. Merlin had finally shown his true colors and he, Arthur, the crown prince, had taken the necessary action. Only two days ago the court of Camelot had heard the words "most powerful sorcerer ever born" spoken aloud in the throne room, but Arthur realised how much he'd been downplaying that meaning up until today. It felt strange to understand such a thing, but if Merlin could perform an attack that devastating without uttering a single word, what other sort of feats was he actually capable of? Maybe he had been wrong earlier and perhaps Merlin did possess control of that magic of his...

And perhaps that was even worse.

The whole thing made Arthur's stomach churn and there were tears forming despite his efforts to hold them back. Any sort of clarity he'd achieved in arresting Merlin had been officially shattered. He was right back where he started—with shock coursing through his veins and his thoughts a mess of indecision that his father would despise. Arthur didn't know what direction to take now, and maybe it was too late to change course even if he wanted to.

But there was one thing he did know. He needed to retreat to his chambers before anyone else witnessed him like this. He couldn't afford anyone else to see him so weak, and so with a small burst of strength, Arthur pushed himself away from the dungeons and ignored Madoc's call questioning if he was alright. He was not alright, and with stumbling steps, Arthur began to stalk down the corridor, pushing through the tingles of shock and holding back his tears—

Only to run almost headfirst into another person entering the dungeon from the opposite direction.

And it was exactly the last person Arthur wanted to see.

"Gaius—" Arthur croaked as the person's features came into focus through his watering eyes. There wasn't enough time to wipe the tears away before the physician saw them on his flushed cheeks. "I apologise, I—"

"Where is he, Arthur?" Gaius cut him off in a rush, and he didn't even bother adding any sort of proper reverence to his tone. The physician's face was a storm of fear for his charge and that look made a sharp pang of guilt slice through Arthur's core. He was sure his visible tears were not lost on Gaius. "Where is Merlin? Leon informed me he'd been arrested?"

Arthur paused, unsure how to respond. He'd wanted to avoid this exact interaction, but there was no running away from it now. His mind was melted mush, but he couldn't afford to continue to act a mess in public. Against his better instincts, he opened his mouth.

"Yes, he has been arrested," Arthur answered, and that was all he could say at first, but the much harsher words soon followed. "Although I believe you know why, Gaius."

He hadn't really meant to say it like that. It came out far more accusatory than he would have liked. A tinge of his anger at the situation had returned to him, and Arthur hated how much he sounded like his father. He didn't enjoy watching Gaius' expression fall and he could see the wheels turning in the physician's brain, putting the puzzle pieces together.

There was a good minute of silence between them before Gaius spoke, and when he did, his voice was quiet. "May I see him?" he asked. "Or will you be barring me from that?"

It was a genuine question, but there was also a hard edge to it. It was about as angry as Arthur ever saw Gaius, and almost like a father's way of saying "I'm very disappointed in you." Somehow, it was worse when Gaius did it than when Uther did it. The dungeon walls seemed to press in on them both, sucking all the air from the chamber, and Arthur honestly didn't know how to answer Gaius' inquiry.

There was also something far worse to mull over. In that moment, Arthur realised he actually needed to make a decision on Gaius himself. It was a terrible thought to consider, but Arthur knew now that Gaius was complicit in Merlin's operations— very complicit. And yet, Gaius hadn't murdered a knight and that was enough to make Arthur hesitate despite knowing his father would absolutely execute the physician for this. So why couldn't Arthur bring himself to do the same? Why was he so weak in this department? His father was going to be furious that Arthur had let Merlin off the hook as long as he did...

But Arthur couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd had enough loss today. Proven incapable once again.

"Yes, you can go see him," Arthur decided, and he felt deficient as soon as he allowed the words to leave his lips. He'd never felt as feeble as he had in the past few hours, but he turned around, glancing down at Madoc and signaling to the knight that Gaius was allowed to approach. Madoc nodded in understanding, but he still looked concerned for Arthur, and Arthur's face was grave when he returned to the physician. "But I must warn you, Gaius," he added, speaking low so just Gaius could hear him. "I don't think Merlin can walk away from this one. He killed Roldan. He's confessed as much and he attacked me just now. With magic. You know that is something I can't just ignore. I'm bound by the laws of Camelot, as are we all."

He tried to keep his voice even as he said it, making it more of a political statement than a plea for forgiveness, but his tone gave him away. Arthur could hear his own grief and indecision in his words and he was sure that wasn't lost on Gaius. He was an emotional wreck and there was no hiding that anymore.

To make matters worse, there was no forgiveness or sympathy for him in Gaius' expression. The court physician didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at Arthur in a way that dressed him down with more efficiency than Uther could ever hope to do.

"I was trying to save him, you know," Gaius said eventually, and it was as if he'd guessed what Arthur had been thinking back in his quarters. "Roldan. We were both trying to save him. I hope you know that."

And with that, he brushed past Arthur, beginning to make his way down the steps, but Arthur threw out his arm, catching Gaius by the elbow before he could.

He could feel Gaius go rigid in his grasp and that pained him. But he said what he had to say regardless. "Please be careful, Gaius," Arthur warned, and he kept his voice low. "I don't want to arrest you. I know my father would have me do so, but it seems to me that Merlin coerced you into this in some way. I don't want you to make a misstep that you can't come back from. I don't want you making the same mistakes as Merlin."

He meant it in goodwill, but Gaius looked gravely disgusted by it. The physician ripped his arm from Arthur's grasp and leveled him with a glare Arthur really hadn't thought the old man was capable of. "There has been no coercing here," Gaius snapped, and he said it loud enough that Merlin could probably hear him. "You don't get to pick and choose who to save, Arthur. I've learnt that the hard way myself. I knew this day would come, and yet I hoped it would not. You know I care for your father, but I'd hoped you may see things differently than him. However, I am not surprised you have chosen the same path as he has. Unlike the rest of us, you are not as bound to his laws as you think you are."

Gaius paused for one second more, braced at the stop of the stairs, and for a terrible moment, Arthur was worried he might fall. But Gaius held fast to the railing, looking Arthur dead in the eye. "Do what you will, sire," Gaius said, and his tone held a dark warning in it that chilled Arthur to the bone. "But I'd advise thinking long and carefully about your decisions. One day, you will be king, and it's about time you start deciding what kind of king you will be for your subjects. All of your subjects."

And with that, Gaius turned his back to Arthur and made his way down the dungeon steps. Arthur watched him go, his body shaking with emotions he could not sort out, and with that, he finally left the dungeons behind him. Fleeing the scene like the coward he was and attempting to outrun his problems. The castle halls were empty—a small mercy—and Arthur was grateful to reach to his chambers unencumbered, relishing in the therapy that was slamming his chamber door shut. Alone once more.

Usually, the two rooms of Arthur's chambers were a refuge for him. A place where he could finally slump his shoulders and relax. But today, the mess of Arthur's living space only reminded him that Merlin was under lock and key and nothing would be the same in these rooms ever again. Biting back another wave of emotion, Arthur collapsed onto his red bedclothes, armour and all, and a headache worse than any he'd ever had bloomed at his temples. He just wanted to sleep, but there was no way his brain would allow it. He could still feel the tingle of shock flowing through him alongside the echo of Gaius' cutting words. His thoughts were a jumble of confusion and conviction, and his mind was clambering over mountains he'd already climbed. Did I make the right decision? What would Roldan think of all this? What would my father? What will he think of it, when he does learn of it? Will Gaius ever speak to me again? Will I be a good king? Am I even a good prince?

Am I really going to kill my best friend?

The dark tangle of it all was too much and Arthur buried his face in his pillow, taking some small amount of comfort in the feeling of cool silk on his tear-stained cheeks. All he could really do was lay there and hope that no one disturbed him.

But of course it wasn't long before he heard a knock on his door, and Arthur bolted upward at the noise.

He tried his best to wipe any remaining tears from his cheeks as he stared at his chamber doors, praying that it was Guinevere and not his father. He wasn't sure if he could handle an encounter with the king right now, nor did he think he could hide his obvious crying just yet. "Who is it?" he called, and to his surprise he heard Morgana's voice filter through the wood of the door.

"It's me, Arthur. May I come in?"

Arthur exhaled, relaxing a bit at her voice and wondering if he should order her away. But he doubted that would do much good with Morgana. Knowing her, she'd come in anyway, and at least she was better than his father. With a groan, Arthur dragged himself from his bed and made his way to his chair instead, collapsing upon it and attempting to look a bit more dignified. Only then did he call back to Morgana, granting her permission to enter.

The door swung open slowly and Morgana poked her head around the corner, her long, dark hair falling behind her and her face a cross between concerned and inquisitive. She looked dressed for court, which was probably not a good sign.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright," Morgana announced, and she strode into the room with a very Morgana-specific confidence, closing the door gently behind her. She studied Arthur with a critical eye and Arthur suddenly felt a bit like a frog caught in a jar on Gaius' work desk. "Leon told me that Merlin's been arrested. What happened? You look awful."

"Awful, do I?" Arthur muttered grimly as he rubbed at his eyes with a gloved hand. He supposed he must. Still sweaty and bloody in his armour from the battle. Face probably red and raw from crying. What a model of a future king. "Brilliant. Glad to hear it. What exactly have you heard, Morgana?"

Morgana frowned as she claimed the chair opposite Arthur, sitting upon it sideways and letting her long skirts flow off the side. Arthur was struck for a moment with the memory that Merlin was the last person to sit there… back when Arthur's trials for him had just begun. He had been a bit more optimistic about the outcome then.

"I heard you were caught in an ambush in Essetir," Morgana answered, and she tapped her nails on the tabletop as she talked. Perhaps she'd picked up that habit from Arthur. "That Sir Roldan perished in the fight. That Merlin was arrested sometime thereafter. Is he suspected to have something to do with it? Are you injured at all? You haven't taken off your armor."

"I haven't gotten around to it," Arthur said with a sigh, and he avoided Morgana's other questions for a moment while he unstrapped his gauntlets. It was a good distraction, although it mostly reminded him that the only reason he still had on his armour was because he didn't have Merlin to take it off him.

Morgana was still staring him down, her one green eye and one blue eye as intense as ever. "Come on, Arthur," she urged, and her voice was as no-nonsense as it always was. Cutting straight through to the point. "Stop stalling. What happened? We both know you wouldn't arrest Merlin over nothing."

Arthur's hands quivered a bit and he shoved them in his lap before Morgana saw. "He has magic," he blurted out, and it was stupid that he felt so weird about revealing a secret that wasn't his.

Silence met him from the other end of the table. Morgana just stared at him blankly for a moment, her face a mixture of surprise and confusion. A reasonable response. That would have been Arthur's reaction too, if he'd heard such nonsense a few days ago.

But it didn't take long for Morgana's surprise to fade. Her expression soon morphed from bewilderment to firm disbelief. She didn't believe him.

"Merlin has magic?" Morgana echoed, and she said it more like a joke than a question. "We're talking about the same Merlin here, right?"

"I wish we weren't," Arthur replied, and his tone held a dark seriousness. He was not in the joking mood, and as Morgana took in his absolute sincerity, her disbelief began to waver. "I witnessed it, Morgana. With my own two eyes. And he's admitted to it. He's powerful, too, and I—"

His voice broke off for a second, as he didn't know what else to say. This was his first time talking about everything he'd learnt with someone other than Merlin himself. It was too much betrayal and confusion to really put to words. "I found out a few days ago," he pressed on, and it seemed strange to say it out loud. "I saw him sneak out to the forest and I followed him. He didn't realise I was there nor that I'd seen him perform his… magic spells, or whatever you'd call it."

He didn't mention the dragon. Somehow, that seemed like too much to explain and Arthur still didn't totally understand all that either. He struggled to figure out what else to say, but in the ensuing silence, Morgana's disbelief fully disappeared from her face. Arthur could see realisation beginning to dawn on her.

"You're not joking… are you?" Morgana said slowly, and her voice was somewhat hollow now. Arthur could see his own distress and confusion reflected in her eyes—processing the magnitude of what Arthur was saying. "A sorcerer? Merlin?"

"Trust me, I know how it sounds," Arthur muttered, and he scrubbed at his face with both hands. He could feel his exhaustion weighing on him more than ever. "But I'm not messing with you, Morgana. I swear it. You didn't see what I saw. I don't know if this whole time it was all just an act, or—"

"This doesn't make any sense," Morgana murmured, cutting him off, and it was almost comical to see her go through the same stages of horror and confusion as Arthur had. Her eyes were wide now, and a bit wild . "Why would he—this doesn't make any sense!"

"Welcome to my past few days," Arthur grumbled, and he resisted the urge to just slam his head down on the table and never get back up. Despite seeing Merlin perform magic several times now, it still didn't feel real or true.

Morgana's gaze grew distant, her eyes staring at Arthur without seeing him. Arthur could practically see the wheels in her head turning and he granted her the time to process. After all, he'd needed a moment or two to think when he'd first discovered all this.

"You said you found out a few days ago," Morgana said finally, and something else had changed in her expression. The wildness was gone, replaced by a slight frostiness. It unnerved Arthur somewhat, although he wasn't sure why. "And yet you only arrested him today. Why? Why didn't you arrest him immediately?"

Arthur had been dreading that question. He hesitated for a moment, playing with his gauntlet straps and struggling to find an answer that didn't make him sound insane. "I don't know," he admitted finally, and he wished he had a better answer. "I guess I wanted to figure out why he would come here. What stupid plot he was up to to think he could stroll in to Camelot and just be my manservant for years on end. You're right, it makes no sense. It still makes no sense, and I suppose I thought…"

He scowled at himself, realising just how stupid he was sounding. "I was naïve," he concluded after a moment. He hated to say it aloud, but it was true. "Despite what I'd seen him do, I thought maybe he wasn't that dangerous. That I could observe him, test him, and figure out why was here. And then maybe I could get him out. Like we did the Druid boy. But I was kidding myself. He is dangerous, and now a good knight is dead due to my carelessness."

Morgana's face was like stone. She seemed almost angry, and that surprised Arthur. "And you haven't told Uther any of this?"

With slight embarrassment, Arthur shook his head. "I figured I'd leave the court details for the morning," he said softly, twisting his mother's ring back and forth on his finger until it hurt. "It's nearly sundown. I thought it was best to bring it all to his attention tomorrow."

That was an excuse, of course. In truth, Arthur secretly hoped that Merlin may escape in the night. Blast his way out of the dungeon like Arthur had already witnessed he was capable of doing. Since Arthur had yet to deliver the details of Merlin's arrest to his father, the manservant's fate was not yet sealed. Some part of Arthur was still fighting for Merlin's reprieve in that way, even if it felt futile at this point.

Morgana's eyebrows knit in confusion at that answer. "You're stalling for him," she accused, and Arthur flinched at her correct assertion. "Why? Why are you protecting him? If you saw what you think you saw, if he's killed a knight—"

"Because, Morgana, what if I was wrong in all this?" Arthur snapped, and he threw his hand up in exasperation, surprising even himself at the outburst. He hadn't meant to cry out like that, but the inner turmoil had been bubbling just below the surface, just waiting to break free. "What if it was an honest mistake, and Merlin didn't mean to injure Roldan? What if he could have healed him? What if he's never meant me or anyone any harm like he claims? What if Roldan's death is my fault, and what if…"

He trailed, unsure if he was willing to speak the next few thoughts that came to mind. But he let them slip through his lips anyway.

"What if our ban on magic is wrong, Morgana?" he asked, and his voice wavered as he said it. He struggled to fight the tears returning to his eyes. "What if it's causing more harm than good? Creating more enemies when there doesn't need to be any? What if I may have just condemned a friend to death?"

The words felt like treason leaving his mouth. They were Merlin's words, and he could hear that as soon as he spoke them. They were a reflection of everything Merlin had been trying to convince him of back in the dungeon. How the ban on magic was wrong. How Roldan's death was an accident, and no different than if Arthur had accidentally harmed a fellow knight. How Arthur and his father had driven people like Merlin to the lengths he'd taken, turning loyal friends into dangerous enemies.

Morgana's eyes widened at his declaration, and Arthur could see just how crazy his words were to her. "Do you really believe that?" she asked, and her voice was a stunned whisper. "Do you really believe that your father's laws are wrong? That magic should be legal?"

"I-I don't know," Arthur answered, and that was true. "I don't know what I believe. I suppose that's the issue. I know magic is dangerous, and it has caused us so much grief. So why does arresting him feel so wrong? I don't… I don't know what to think, Morgana. My head is telling me one thing and my instincts another. But what do you think?"

He hadn't planned on asking her that. After all, Merlin had told him that it didn't matter what anyone else thought. That only Arthur's opinion mattered in the end. But Arthur still didn't know what his opinion was, even after hours and days of wrestling with it. He needed advice and if he knew anyone who didn't struggle with indecision, it was Morgana. She would give him a straight answer.

"What do I think?" Morgana repeated, and she looked more shocked by this development than Merlin's sorcery. "Well, I… I do think you may be right, Arthur. I've always held my doubts about Uther's brutality. You know that. And I will forever be grateful that you helped me get the Druid boy out of Camelot. He was an innocent in all this, and Uther would still have him killed. Perhaps reconsidering the ban on magic is something that should be done for the good of the people… both magical and not."

She had a point, of course. She always did. Arthur had brought up the Druid boy in this conversation himself and it was reassuring to hear Morgana agree with him. It meant he wasn't crazy for entertaining the thought of lifting the magic ban. And yet it still felt impossible and useless. "Reconsidering," Arthur repeated, and he choked out a bitter laugh at that. "Yes, that's something my father is wonderfully good at."

"Well, I can't imagine Uther would ever consider something like this," Morgana agreed with a small sniff, and her gaze grew distant again. Her expression turned wistful. "But he will not be here forever, Arthur. Perhaps in the future, things can be different. Perhaps you will have made your mind up by then, and maybe then... we could work on it together?"

She said it tentatively, focusing her gaze on a crease in her skirt and speaking as if she thought Arthur wouldn't like the idea. But Arthur appreciated the sentiment. "Perhaps we can," he said with a weak smile, and he ran a finger over his mother's ring once more. He wondered what she would have thought of all this. "It's a nice thought, Morgana. But that's not something we can work on now, is it? And this is now. Merlin is now. You were right, I am stalling for him. I didn't want to arrest him, and I am not sure if I made the right call. I just… when that traveler came here and told us of the sorcerer called Emrys, I never thought…"

He trailed for a moment, trying to find the right words. These days he had to fight to form a coherent sentence. What a mess he was. "I just never fathomed it would be Merlin, of all people," he said finally, and he felt stupid for saying it. What an idiot he was for not seeing it sooner. "I mean, would you have ever guessed he was Emrys? Or was I just woefully blind in all of this?"

Across the table from him, Morgana went rigid. "Emrys?" she repeated, and she said the name oddly. Almost with a tinge of fear.

"Ah, yes, that seems to be what the Druids call him," Arthur explained, and he realised he'd forgotten to mention the part about Merlin's other name to Morgana. "The group of Druids we encountered yesterday kept going on about a prophecy. Something about Merlin being Emrys and a destiny for him. It sounds ludicrous to me, but Merlin seems to believe in it."

Morgana suddenly abandoned the crease in her skirt, leaning forward with a sharp intensity, and Arthur flinched at her quick change in demeanour. He was getting jumpy with any sudden movement now. Merlin's magic had made him feel so vulnerable, and even in the company of safe people like Morgana.

"Arthur, think about this," Morgana said gravely, her hands on the table, and Arthur didn't like how serious she sounded when speaking his name. "Do you not think that a prophecy about a sorcerer more powerful than any other is something to be taken seriously? And especially one that the Druids hold in high regard? One that they hope may act as a weapon for them?"

She said it with a hint of obvious fear, but Arthur groaned at the question. "Honestly, Morgana?" he replied, and he rubbed at his temples, trying with no luck to get rid of his burning headache. He didn't know what he was thinking, unloading all this on her. Now it was two of them having a mental breakdown. "I think it may be a load of Druidic hogwash. Merlin has magic, that much is clear, but I don't know about this whole grand destiny he seems to believe in so strongly. I imagine the Druids have made it up to recruit him for their crusade to overrun the kingdom with the Old Religion. It's a fool's errand, and nothing more."

But even as he said, Arthur wasn't entirely sure if he believed that anymore. After all, Merlin had just blown up his dungeon cell without so much as a murmur of a spell. Arthur knew now that Merlin was absolutely as dangerous as the Druids claimed he was. And what if Morgana was right? What if the prophecy had merit? What would that mean for him, exactly? The thought of his life being ruled by magical divination was something that horrified him, but he was also lying to himself if he said he didn't want to know what the prophecies said about him. He wanted to see what the Druids were hiding from him, and Merlin held the key to those answers. If Merlin died, those secrets would likely remain secrets forever.

Across the table, Morgana looked a little shaken and Arthur was unnerved by that. "Are you alright, Morgana?" he pried, and his brow knitted with concern. It took a lot to shake her, and Arthur had just unloaded a lot of information on her in a short span of time. "I'm sure this came as quite a shock. I should have broken it to you more gently. I wasn't the only one he deceived."

"No, it seems you weren't," Morgana said with a tinge of frustration, and Arthur couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her quite so tense. "But what it's worth, Arthur, I think you did the right thing in arresting him."

Arthur blinked in surprise at that. "Really?" he managed, and he couldn't quite hide his shock at that answer. For some reason, it filled him with a wave of despair. "You… you really believe that?"

"Yes," Morgana said, and she spoke with a certainty that Arthur did not possess. Her expression was stony once again, and this time Arthur knew why that unnerved him. It reminded him of his father. "I do. And as sorry as I am to hear it, I don't think this is the same situation as the Druid boy."

"It isn't?" Arthur said, and he wasn't quite sure why he was so unnerved by her decision. After all, he'd asked Morgana for her opinion and he'd gotten it. She'd even come to a similar conclusion to him. So why was he so defensive? "But I thought you just said we should reconsider this whole ban on magic? And yet you believe Merlin should be executed?"

"No, no, of course I don't wish to see him executed," Morgana said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and she got up from her seat, moving to the window and peering out of it. The late afternoon sun was flowing into Arthur's chambers, dancing in the blues and purples of her dress. "But I was there when that man came to court. I heard what he said. He spoke of a sorcerer named Emrys that was an obvious threat to Camelot. And you think that is Merlin?"

"That appears to be the name the Druids have drawn up for him, yes," Arthur confirmed, and he didn't like the tone Morgana was using. Almost like she wasn't telling him something. "And Merlin didn't deny it. But what are you getting at, Morgana? What are you hiding from me?"

Morgana paused, pursing her lips, and that was confirmation enough for Arthur that she was withholding something. "Morgana, whatever it is, tell me, please," Arthur pressured, and his mind was whirling with what she could possibly know. Something about the prophecies the Druids had mentioned?

There was silence between them for a long moment—a silence in which Morgana simply stared out the window, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. She looked like she was battling with what to say, but eventually, she opened her mouth.

"Arthur, do you remember when I was kidnapped by that violent band of Druids?" she asked, and she was not meeting Arthur's eyes. Her gaze was still focused on the courtyard below them.

"Yes," Arthur said slowly, and he recalled those rather horrible few days. His father had gone stark raving mad trying to find her. "We were very relieved to bring you back home safe. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," Morgana said flatly, and she looked at him properly now, her eyes as bright and intense as ever. "When I was with them, I heard the same whispers that this traveler brought to us. About a sorcerer named Emrys. More powerful than any warlock that has ever come before him and a prophesied threat to Camelot's rightful heir."

Threat. Arthur's breathing hitched at that. For not the first time, he struggled to understand what he was hearing. A threat to Camelot's rightful heir. An ominous warning, and that wording couldn't refer to anyone but him. But was this one of the prophecies the Archdruid had spoken of?

"You heard this?" Arthur pressed, and he hoped against hope she'd been mistaken. "In those exact words? You're sure?"

"Positive," Morgana said, and her voice was hollow. Fearful. "Arthur, if Merlin is Emrys, there is a prophecy about him and it's something the less peaceful Druids hold dear. I fear they are plotting against us. In fact, I'd be shocked if they haven't already made some sort of move against you."

Arthur suddenly felt terribly cold. He could now hear his father's words of caution echoed in Morgana's voice. She had never sounded like him before. "Why did you never tell me of this, Morgana?" Arthur prodded, and he was unable to fully disguise a shred of anger in his voice. "Why wouldn't you have told us this immediately? Especially if I was in danger?"

"I-I wasn't sure how," Morgana stuttered, and her eyes were watering a little. "Like you, I thought it might be superstitious nonsense, or… or just a tall tale they created to scare me. But what the traveler said, and with what you're telling me now, I don't think it is. Whatever information the Druids are withholding from us, they are willing to die to protect it. The last thing I want is to see another innocent person killed at Uther's behest. You know that. But Merlin might not be innocent in all this. If he is Emrys… he could be actively plotting with the violent Druids to overthrow Uther. First him, and then you. Perhaps his killing of Roldan was not an accident."

Arthur frowned at that, leaning hard against the back of his chair. Like so many things these past few days, he didn't know how to process this new information. It made logical sense that Merlin may be plotting with the more violent Druid sects. Certainly their recent encounter with a band of Druids hadn't exactly proven him to be innocent. And yet, for some reason, everything Morgana was concluding felt… wrong. Wrong in a way that surprised even him.

"I don't know about all this, Morgana," Arthur said softly, and he battled with himself internally, struggling to select the words to describe what he was feeling. "I didn't… one of the reasons I didn't arrest Merlin right away was because I wanted to test him. He's been here a long time without harming me or my father, and he passed several of my tests. I honestly don't think he is plotting anything against us. If anything, the Druids we met seemed at odds with him."

"And how do you know for sure he was at odds with them?" Morgana countered, and she returned to the table, placing both her hands down on the wood to look at him with anger in her colourful eyes. "How do you know he hasn't attempted to hurt you or Uther? Did he admit as much to you?"

"No," Arthur admitted sheepishly, and he realised he didn't know how to articulate why Morgana's conclusion felt so wrong to him. "But when I did talk to him, Merlin didn't seem—"

"Merlin didn't seem a lot of things," Morgana hissed, and she looked furious now in a way that startled Arthur. He'd rarely seen her this intense, and when he had, it was never good. "He didn't seem like a sorcerer, did he? Or the type to try and kill his friends? I'm sorry, Arthur, but I think you may be blinded by bias on this one. All information points to Merlin being a threat to the crown. Something must be done."

And with that, Morgana turned on her heel and strode for the door, the glittering layers of her purple skirts billowing behind her. She moved so fast that Arthur hardly had a chance to react and he started in his chair, grappling for words. "Wait a minute, Morgana, where—" he blubbered, nearly tipping the chair over with him in it. "Where are you going?"

"To Uther, since clearly you don't seem to be all that quick about it," Morgana snapped, and she ripped open Arthur's door with her hand, leveling him with a glare. She looked possessed by a righteous fury, but she calmed somewhat for a moment, her expression softening. "Look, Arthur, I'm sorry," she added, and she did sound sincere in her pity for him. "Truly, I am. It's clear to me that you're very torn up about this. That's understandable. Merlin meant a lot to you, and he did to me as well. But if Merlin has admitted to being Emrys, then he isn't like the Druid boy. He isn't an innocent, and he's already killed a knight. Your father needs to know all of this and if you won't tell him, then I will."

"Morgana—" Arthur tried, but Morgana had already gone, stalking out of Arthur's chambers and into the corridor. With a stroke of panic, Arthur bolted up from his chair to give chase, catching the edge of his door before it slammed shut—

Only to stop in the doorway, frozen in his tracks and staring out into the corridor just as Morgana's skirt train turned the corner. She was no doubt going to the throne room but Arthur stalled in his pursuit of her. After all, what would he achieve by following her? What did he possibly have to say in Merlin's defense to his father? This feels wrong? I shouldn't have arrested him? Please let him go? Morgana was absolutely in the right, and Arthur had been too conflicted to bring his concerns to the king directly. He had been holding out for no reason and Morgana was simply doing what Arthur was too weak to do himself.

With a heavy heart, Arthur let go of the door and let it swing shut again, locking himself back inside. The silence and solitude of his chambers reigned once more and he returned to his chair like a man possessed, slumping back into it and burying his face in his hands.

He stayed there for a little while, just wallowing and acting perfectly useless. The stale air of his chambers felt like it was suffocating him, and it wasn't long before Leon appeared with the court summons. As soon as the knight knocked, Arthur knew it was him. He barely lifted his head to mutter "Enter."

Leon's head poked around the door, but he didn't come in fully. He looked a little uncomfortable, and Arthur wondered how terrible his appearance truly was. He didn't want to glance in a mirror. "Your father requests your presence, sire," the knight reported softly, and his usual stoic expression did betray some distress at the situation. At least Arthur wasn't the only one. "He has summoned the court for Merlin's trial. It requires your testimony."

"Yes, of course," Arthur replied listlessly, and he stared at the chair opposite him. Now empty, but still lingering with the ghosts of Merlin and Morgana. They both were telling him such incredibly different things. "I'll be there shortly."

"Right," Leon said with an awkward nod, and he tried to leave, but Arthur stopped him with a hand.

"Wait," he said. "You came here from the dungeons, yes? And Merlin was still there?."

It was a dumb question. Arthur knew that, and yet he couldn't help but ask. Couldn't help but hope that Merlin had come to his senses and blown his way out of the dungeon. He wanted that more than he cared to admit, but he knew deep down that Merlin hadn't done it. If he had, Arthur would have heard the warning bells, telling him of Merlin's successful escape.

Leon blinked in surprise at the question, and a sort of pity wormed its way onto his face. It wasn't far off from Morgana's expression. "Yes, Merlin was still down there," he confirmed. "But… why do you ask? Did you not think he would be?"

"No, no, I knew he would be," Arthur said with a shaky exhale, and he stood up in a hurry, grabbing his red cape and brushing past Leon. He summoned up all his courage and began to make his way towards the throne room, a dark sense of dread and grief settling over him. The empty castle cloisters felt like they were swallowing him whole and as Arthur abandoned the sanctuary of his chambers for good, he prayed that Leon hadn't seen him wiping away a few final tears. He could not afford to shed any during the upcoming trial. The throne room was a place of dignity and law, and Arthur had to conduct himself as the future king he was. A stoic façade that agreed with his father's every word...

And even if those words meant Merlin's death.