Ship(s): Merlin/Arthur
Author's Notes: Arthur knows about Merlin's magic; unbetaed; this is for the Camelot bingo fest going on. This prompt was secret identity discovered.
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.


Merlin liked to keep secrets. Even after he confessed his magic—and wasn't that a horror of a few weeks with silence and terror lurking in Merlin's eyes, for a long time after, he kept lying to Arthur. Not so much in deliberate ways but forgetting to mention a thing or two was a lie by omission, wasn't it?

While Arthur disapproved, he could see why Merlin kept up the habit. He'd learned from an early age and it had proven life-saving after all. Sitting through tearful confessions and lists of what Merlin had done for Arthur, some horrifying, some ridiculous, Arthur tried to be understanding.

It got better with time.

Things settled down. Insults between them started up again, even becoming more inventive, and there were smiles and laughter and saving each other's lives more times than Arthur could count. Wresting at times, Arthur lobbing a pillow or goblet at Merlin and him sending it back Arthur's way using magic, it was becoming almost wonderful. Even the lying stopped.

Which is why Arthur was surprised to find suspicious black rags in Merlin's cupboard.

It wasn't that Arthur was snooping. He had been looking for Merlin and Merlin's room seemed like a cyclone had hit it and no, a king should not be putting away a servant's things. But really, he'd tripped over more than a few books and what looked like dried herbs and Arthur was taking his life in his hands just to walk around. So he'd shoved the books back into the cupboard, and lo and behold, the only thing in there were black rags. That batty old sorceress's black rags.

As Arthur lifted the tatters up, staring at them as he held them in his hands, Merlin came stumbling in. And stopped, his eyes big as saucers as he said, "I can explain."

That was never a good sign.

"Yes, I believe you can." Arthur waved the clothes about, then threw them at Merlin.

Since Arthur had excellent aim, he was the foremost warrior in Camelot after all, the rags landed on Merlin's head.

Merlin fumbled a bit, his face peering out from beneath a wreath of black cloth, and said, "Umm."

"Yes, very articulate. You should be a bard with your language skills." Arthur lifted one eyebrow, staring at Merlin and daring him to tell Arthur just what he was doing with the Dolma's dress. "Perhaps you might use your considerable abilities at articulation to explain exactly why you have a sorceress's outfit in your cupboard."

"Umm…," Merlin mumbled, pulling the outfit off his head, and letting it drop to the floor, joining the rest of the mess there. Typical.

"Yes, we established that already," Arthur said, his voice reflecting his growing impatience with Merlin's non-explanation.

Then Arthur remembered a conversation some time ago, Merlin fingering Morgana's purple dress and absconding with it. Looking up and down at Merlin and the rags at Merlin's feet, Arthur rolled his eyes. "You're still wearing women's clothing, aren't you?" Giving a little sigh, Arthur said, "While your down time is your own, I would have thought you would have gained some modicum of good taste after all this time with me as an example. But apparently not." Arthur kicked at the rags. "These are hideous."

That seemed to annoy Merlin enough to start talking. "I don't wear women's clothing, you arse. And these are… umm." The idiot stopped, biting at his lip, glancing down at the clothes and then back up at Arthur. His cheeks were flushed, too.

Arthur was nearly at the end of his rope. "Merlin, talk. Now."

Glaring at Arthur, Merlin turned around and around, waving his hands about like some kind of mad thing, shouting, "I was the Dolma, alright. I had to transform because Gaius, the wanker—I swear he does it on purpose because it's hilarious fun to him and did you know he giggles about it when he thinks no one is listening? Anyway, he told you that you needed a sorceress for the whole evil Gwen issue and I… it was… I hate you, you know."

"You were… the Dolma?" Arthur said, not able to wrap his head around it. "The sorceress who kept flirting with me? Merlin, she was at least eighty years old."

Merlin flung his arms wide. "Surprise? I was Dragoon, too."

Dragoon, Merlin was Dragoon and the Dolma. How? Why? What the hell? Then Arthur remembered just what happened.

Pointing a finger straight at Merlin's face, Arthur snarled, "You kicked me. You rode me like a horse and kicked me."

"You weren't a very good horse." Merlin said, the idiot. As if climbing a prince and then kicking him to get him to move was an every-day thing and it was Arthur's fault he wasn't a better horse.

"I swear I'll put you in the stocks for a month for that," Arthur shouted.

"I'll turn you into a toad," Merlin yelled back. "A warty one."

"You wouldn't dare." Arthur scowled, glaring daggers at him.

"Try me." Merlin stood there, his eyes flashing, his whole body daring Arthur to push it.

"Merlin!" Arthur was on his last nerve.

Something of Arthur's fury must have got through Merlin's pea brain. He backed down, sighing the longest, most pathetic sigh that Arthur had ever heard, as if Merlin were the wronged party but that he was going to give in just because he had to be the better man.

As if Arthur wasn't the better man.

Scowling at Arthur, looking all put upon, then surrendering without surrendering at all, Merlin said, "Okay, it wasn't my finest hour, you prat."

Being the bigger man no matter what Merlin might think, in a calm, reasonable voice, Arthur said, "Are there any other secrets you'd like to tell me about?"

"The Dolma thought you were cute." Shrugging, Merlin waggled his eyebrows a bit.

"Merlin, you just told me you were the Dolma." Arthur was about to roll his eyes when what Merlin had just implied sunk in. "Oh."

Trying and failing to look innocent, Merlin tilted his head, waiting.

Arthur was nothing if not courageous. He was a warrior after all and used to diving into battle. And this was definitely a new type of battle. Decidedly, deliberately, pointedly, Arthur said, "Well, I did not think the Dolma was cute. She's not my type, unlike a certain warlock."

Merlin's dimples appeared as he said, "Does the warlock have a name?"

Arthur always liked those dimples, not that he'd ever admit it. But he did nod. "He's called idiot."

"I do know someone with that name." Merlin thought a moment, then looked at Arthur with speculation in his gaze. "I've heard he's very fond of a certain golden-haired dollophead, too."

"Good to know." Arthur liked this new battle strategy. It was certainly likely to lead to more enjoyable triumphs if he played his cards right. "And I'll let you in on a secret. If said idiot comes to the dollophead's chambers tonight, both of them might be limping the next day due to certain energetic activities."

Merlin hummed a little, then said, "I'll…, I mean, he'll look forward to it."

"And Merlin, no more secrets, okay?" Arthur said.

Merlin just nodded, then grinning, he leaned over and whispered into Arthur's ear details about all the things he would like to do to Arthur come nightfall.

Arthur was perfectly fine with that.

No more secrets indeed.