Epilogue
"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked in surprise as he walked into his quarters, trying his best to keep his tone friendly. Or at least not openly hostile.
"King Arthur sent me, sir," the teenager said innocently. "I'm to help you dress today."
Merlin scowled, friendliness forgotten. He supposed this was Arthur's idea of a joke.
"I'm plenty capable of dressing myself. And there's no need to call me 'sir,' Oswin."
"You will be nobility after today. You'll have to get used to people calling you 'sir.' Or will they call you 'lord'?" Oswin pondered, opening Merlin's wardrobe. Merlin used his magic to snap it back closed, making Oswin jump.
He did not like the idea of people going through his things. Besides, his new quarters had a large wardrobe, and even though he told himself he shouldn't be, he couldn't help being just a little bit embarrassed by how empty it was.
"I don't know what they'll call me," Merlin said irritably, stepping around Oswin to reach the wardrobe himself. The younger man moved to the side accommodatingly, and Merlin pulled out the formal outfit the royal tailor had created just for the occasion. "I'd rather they just kept calling me Merlin."
He disappeared behind the dressing screen – another strange thing to get used to – and pulled on the garments, grumbling as he fumbled with the excessive number of buttons.
"May I help, Sir Merlin?" Oswin asked after several seconds of Merlin struggling noisily. "It would be an honor to help you prepare for this occasion."
Merlin took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the screen, trying not to sulk as Oswin managed the rest of the buttons and helped get everything settled into place.
"At least these aren't everyday clothes, right?" he said encouragingly. "You'll be back in your tunic and neckerchief tomorrow." He fussed in silence for a moment, making sure everything was situated perfectly. And then he spoke, his voice quiet and somber.
"My grandmother had magic, you know. She hid it well, so she didn't have to run during the great purge. But my mother told me what it was like. She was a teenager at the time, and she talked about living in fear every day that the guards would come and she would have to see her mother burn on a pyre. I know – we all know – that the king would not have legalized magic if not for you." He stepped back and eyed Merlin appraisingly before apparently deciding his appearance was passable. "She'll be at the celebrations today. My grandmother, I mean. She's quite elderly, but she says she wouldn't miss it for the world."
"I'm glad she lived to see it," Merlin replied quietly. He wasn't sure what else to say. He'd accepted the role of Court Sorcerer, but he hadn't realized that meant agreeing to be some kind of icon to all of the people with magic in Camelot.
"Sir Merlin?" The young man chewed his lip, looking at the sorcerer hesitantly. "Can I ask you a question? It might not be appropriate to ask, but I really want to know."
"What is it, Oswin?" Merlin eyed him warily.
"How do I get the king to like me?"
Merlin had to exercise every bit of self-control he had not to burst into laughter. For the past two weeks since Oswin had taken over Merlin's responsibilities as the king's servant, all Arthur had done was sing his praises. It was "Oswin is never late," and "Oswin brings me a proper royal breakfast," and "Oswin keeps my room absolutely spotless."
Merlin couldn't help hating the kid a little bit. He was just so…efficient. And clean. And earnest. And he bowed every time he came into Arthur's presence, and every time he left. He always called him "sire" or "my lord."
It was awful. And Arthur knew he thought it was awful, which just made Arthur enjoy it even more.
"What makes you think he doesn't like you?" Merlin asked once he was certain he could control his amusement.
Oswin's answer came out rapidly, as though he'd been keeping the words pent up inside. "One of the other servants told me that before you, the king had never kept a servant for longer than two months, and I'm worried he's going to sack me. He always seems cross with me, no matter how hard I try. He got angry with me this morning because I put his sword away where it belongs and he couldn't find it. I don't understand. Why wouldn't he have looked for it on the sword shelf?"
There was a sword shelf? Merlin always left it on the table, knowing that Arthur never wanted it far from him anyway. If he was at his desk, it leaned against the desk. If he was asleep, it sat next to his bed.
"And yesterday I spent twenty minutes trying to wake him, but he wouldn't get out of bed. Then he was angry with me because he was late to the council meeting."
A laugh did escape Merlin then, distracting him from wondering where exactly in Arthur's chambers this "sword shelf" was. "He's just awful in the mornings, isn't he?"
Oswin's eyes grew wide. "I would never speak ill of the king, sir."
Merlin sighed. "There's your problem. Oswin, you are probably going to spend more time with the king than anyone else now. Yes, a lot of the time you're just hovering quietly off to the side, but you'll be with him." Merlin tried to stamp down the weird feeling that squished around in his stomach at that thought. He belonged by Arthur's side.
And he would be by Arthur's side, he reminded himself. It would just be different now.
"Yes, you should probably treat him with the respect due a king, but you have to see him as a person too. He can't be king all the time. Sometimes he needs to just be Arthur. So maybe tone down the formality just a little bit when it's only the two of you." It was the best Merlin could come up with. Hopefully it was good advice and wouldn't get the kid fired.
An interesting thought, he realized, considering an hour ago he would have loved nothing more than for Arthur to sack the boy.
"Is that what you did?" Oswin asked eagerly, and Merlin snorted.
"Not exactly. But I really wouldn't recommend acting like me."
The clothes were stifling and awful, but the cloak…Merlin had to admit he liked the cloak. It was soft and heavy, and quite honestly would make an excellent blanket for his bed. Of course, Arthur would have his head if he used it as such.
It was warm, though. And he was already feeling a bit warm anyway.
"You'll be fine," Hunith assured him, brushing non-existent dirt from his shoulder. "There's only about fifty people in there, and you know all of them."
Merlin took a deep breath and nodded.
Fifty people.
Although the celebrations were taking place kingdom-wide, more to celebrate the official legalization of magic than to celebrate Merlin's specific appointment, the ceremony was supposed to be small. Like a knighting ceremony, Arthur had said.
But then the knights of the round table had asked if they could come, and of course Merlin said yes.
And then some of the other knights wanted to come too, and Merlin was so surprised and pleased by their obvious approval that he said yes to that too.
And then some of the servants he was friends with had shyly asked if they could sneak in the back and watch, and Merlin had insisted that of course they could attend, no sneaking necessary.
And then the council had requested to attend, and then letters from a couple of nobles came asking for permission to attend as well, and Arthur had pointed out that they couldn't very well tell the servants yes and the nobles no.
So it was Merlin's own fault, really.
"All right, I'm going to go in. Just a few more minutes, and then it will be over," his mother promised, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek before she went through the doors. He saw the pride behind the tears in her eyes before she walked away.
Merlin took a deep breath. At least it wasn't a big ceremonial entrance. And the people would be standing, not sitting, so it wouldn't be too terribly formal.
Steeling himself, he nodded to the guards, and they pulled open the doors of the throne room.
As he walked through, the crowd burst into applause, which surprised him so much that he froze for a moment. On the throne, he saw Arthur trying to hide a laugh, no doubt at the stunned look on his face.
Straightening his shoulders, he marched down the aisle until he reached Arthur. Then he lowered his eyes and bowed to the king.
When they'd talked about the ceremony, they'd joked about the bow. Arthur insisted it had to be there for propriety's sake, and Merlin had had a great deal of fun in suggesting that he may or may not actually do it when the time came.
But now, with the sunlight streaming into the room, the cape on his shoulders, and Arthur sitting proudly on his throne with Gwen looking very regal on her new throne beside him…nothing about this really seemed all that funny.
Arthur stood and stepped down so he was standing in front of Merlin. He looked his friend in the eye, and then, almost imperceptibly, Arthur bent his head in return. Just barely, so only Merlin could see. And Merlin did his best to fight it, but he felt the grin pulling at his mouth in response.
"Kneel," the king commanded, and Merlin awkwardly moved to his knees, cursing the cape for making it more complicated than it needed to be.
"Do you, Merlin, son of Balinor, swear your fealty to myself and to the kingdom of Camelot?"
"I pledge my loyalty to you and to Camelot for all the days of my life." The words came out strong and confident, thankfully. He would have been horrified if his nerves made his voice shake.
"Do you swear to use your magic only for the good of the kingdom and never for harm?"
"I do so swear."
"Then I hereby appoint thee Court Sorcerer of Camelot. Arise."
He stood and looked at Arthur. The king's face was impassive, but Merlin could see the pride in his eyes, and it caught him off guard.
To his horror, he felt himself getting a little bit choked up.
Pull it together. You will not cry at your investiture ceremony!
And he did pull it together. He turned around to face the room, which burst into enthusiastic applause again. The noise of the clapping following him out the door.
And then the hard part was over.
The feast and the celebrating went well into the night, full of laughter and jokes and stories, and goblet after goblet of ale – mostly coming from Gwaine, he realized partway through the night.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" he asked finally, eyeing the drink with suspicion.
Gwaine grinned guiltily. "Lancelot might have said something about you turning Arthur into a toad if you got drunk enough."
"You wouldn't dare," a menacing voice said behind him, Arthur's hand clamping down on his shoulder.
Merlin looked as innocent as possible. "Not tonight. There are way too many witnesses."
"So you're saying it could maybe happen on another night?" Gwaine asked hopefully, and Merlin just shrugged noncommittally while Arthur glowered.
Gwaine grinned, then quickly vanished back into the crowd, in pursuit of a girl or a drink – Merlin couldn't quite tell which – and Arthur took his place at Merlin's side.
"How does it feel?" the king asked as the two of them surveyed the party.
"Warm. Very soft, though. I think it'll be nice for when I have to ride a horse in the winter."
"Not the cloak, you idiot. Being Court Sorcerer. How does that feel?"
Merlin thought for a moment. "Scary," he admitted. "But exciting. I think I'm ready for it."
Arthur nodded. "I know you are. You've basically been doing the job since you arrived, you know."
"Thank you," Merlin said softly, keeping his eyes on the party. He wasn't sure he could say this while looking at Arthur. "For making this happen. Not just the job, but…all of it. I couldn't have done it without you, Arthur."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the king smile. "I owe you a debt of gratitude as well. I wouldn't be the king I am – and Camelot would not be the kingdom it is – without your guidance and protection." He turned to face Merlin and held out his goblet. "To Camelot, and to her sorcerer."
Merlin bumped his own goblet against it. "To Camelot, and to her king."
AN: Thank for you sticking with me to the end of this, and a special thank you to all of those who left reviews to encourage me along the way! This is the longest fic I've published, and I feel a little sad and sentimental now that it's done, but I'm also excited to finally move on to other things!
The first chapter of my next story, The Hand of the Enemy, is now up. It will not be as long as this one, thankfully! I also posted a one-shot yesterday called The World is Full of Wonders. If you've enjoyed my writing, please considering checking those out!
(P.S. I haven't forgotten the bonus chapter I promised. That will be posted within the next few days!)