Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Chapter Four

Arthur asked George to draw up a bath for him and to bring him a dinner plate, which prompted the servant to look at him with concern.

"You're already had dinner, sire," he reminded Arthur gently. "Perhaps you would like a sleeping draught?"

"If I wanted a sleeping draught, I would have said I wanted a sleeping draught," Arthur snapped. "But I asked for food, so clearly I want food." Not that he would take a potion prescribed by Gaius at the moment anyway. Even if the physician didn't kill him, he might relish the idea of making Arthur suffer a little bit.

Leon arrived just as George was stepping out.

"Sire, Sir Leon is here," he announced, Leon fully visible standing right beside him.

"I can see that, George," he said, trying with all of his might to hold onto his temper. He was in for a long evening, and it wouldn't do to start getting angry now.

If it had been Merlin, he would have thrown something at him. If he threw something at George, the man would probably drop dead of shame on the spot.

With another bow, George finally left the room, leaving Arthur alone with Leon.

"How is he?" Arthur asked without preamble.

"I got him to eat a couple of bites and take a drink of water this morning," Leon replied, "but I don't think he had any more after I left, and I still don't think he's had any of the medicine from Gaius."

Arthur nodded. "All right. Bring him up, please."

Leon blinked in surprise. "Sire?"

"Bring him here. I wish to speak with him."

It was not standard practice for the king to question prisoners in his chambers. There were other rooms – honestly, almost any other room of the castle – better suited to that purpose. But Leon recovered quickly and nodded.

"Of course, sire. I'll be back shortly."

Arthur had been to Gaius's chambers many, many times over the years, but never when he had known he would be entirely unwelcome. Still, he forced himself to swallow his nerves and knock on the door.

"Enter," he heard Gaius call from inside.

Gaius's stunned expression when Arthur walked in was almost humorous. Arthur tried to force a smile, but he knew it looked as stiff and unnatural as it felt.

"Hello, Gaius. I uh – I came to pick up some clothes."

Gaius's eyebrows almost went off his forehead. "Clothes?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Clean clothes. For Merlin. I'll just, uh—" he pointed to Merlin's room, then quickly walked up the steps and away from the awkward conversation.

Standing in his servant's room, he wondered how on earth he could even know which clothes were dirty and which were clean. Everything was sprawled across the room, the cupboard empty as usual.

Behind him in the doorway, he heard Gaius clear his throat, and he turned around to see the physician holding a few articles of clothing.

"These were freshly washed," he said quietly, handing them to Arthur. "May I ask why you need clothing for him?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to clear his throat. "The dungeons are dirty," he said awkwardly. "I thought some clean clothes might be nice."

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but Arthur made a quick exit before he could ask any more questions.

Arthur barely made it back before Leon arrived with Merlin. When Leon walked in with the prisoner, Arthur felt his stomach turn uncomfortably.

First there was the issue of Merlin's face. One week was not long enough for the bruising to heal; instead, the left side of his face encompassed most of the colors of the rainbow.

Second, there was the way Merlin was standing, slumped down, fidgeting uncertainly.

And third, there was the flat look in his eyes.

"That's all, Leon," Arthur said, and the knight nearly ran for the door in his haste to be gone.

Arthur had planned what to say, but looking at Merlin, he completely forgot about the plan.

"Merlin, what the hell are you doing here?" he burst out, exasperated.

To his relief, some life came back to Merlin's face in the form of confusion. "Leon said you sent for me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Not here in my chambers – here in Camelot! Why didn't you escape? You were down there for a week without a single visitor! Don't tell me you couldn't escape the dungeons. Those dungeons have never successfully held a sorcerer the entire time I've been alive."

Merlin still looked puzzled. "Camelot is where I belong, Arthur. And you're my king. I'm not going to run away from either."

"Even though you thought I was going to burn you on the pyre?" Arthur's voice was sharper than he intended.

Merlin winced at that. "I'm not running away," he repeated stubbornly.

"I can't believe you asked me not to burn you. Did you honestly think that I would do that? That I would tie you to a pile of wood and set you on fire?" Arthur was nearly yelling by the time he reached the last word.

Merlin's eyes flashed and his chin tilted up, and Arthur was relieved to see some of the old fight start to spark back to life. "It's what happened to Gaius when the witchfinder accused him. I watched him on that pyre. I saw that torch come within inches of setting him on fire. You don't forget something like that, Arthur."

Arthur remembered Merlin's devastation when Gaius had been sentenced to death. It had made sense to him; Gaius was like a father to Merlin. But now he realized that Merlin was also seeing his own fate play out before him, should he ever be caught.

But that had been Uther's doing. Not Arthur's.

"I'm not my father, Merlin," Arthur said bitterly. "I thought you knew that."

Merlin didn't answer for a moment, and when he did, his voice was low. "I was scared, Arthur. You were furious. You punched me – multiple times – and had me thrown in the dungeon. What was I supposed to think?"

Arthur rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't even know what I think at this point."

"So you haven't decided what to do with me?" Merlin asked cautiously, and Arthur shook his head.

"I have no idea what to do with you," he confessed. He paused for a moment. "This past week, I kept remembering things you've told me over the past several years. Some things make a lot more sense now, but some things… I just remember them randomly. They'll come to mind for no reason whatsoever. And do you know what question I keep remembering, more than any of the others?"

Merlin shook his head, eying him curiously.

"'How long have you been training to be a prat?'" Arthur couldn't help but laugh a little bit, and even Merlin showed signs of a smile.

"It just doesn't make sense, does it?" he continued. "If your goal was to get close to me, your plan was terrible. I remember Cedric, who came out of nowhere and just about fell over himself trying to serve me and tell me what an honor it was. You were the absolute opposite of that."

The smile fell from Arthur's face. "None of it makes sense to me, Merlin," he said tiredly, and then he sighed. "I guess we have a lot to talk about. But first things first."

Merlin looked at him questioningly, and Arthur gestured towards where the tub was set up behind Arthur's dressing screen

"For starters, you need a bath. You smell awful. And please, whatever you do, stay behind the screen. My eyes don't need that kind of trauma."

Merlin looked genuinely mystified. "A bath?"

"Yes, Merlin, a bath. And then some food. Leon says you've hardly eaten a thing."

Merlin stared at the dressing screen like it was a creature he'd never seen before.

"For heaven's sake, Merlin, what is it?"

His servant looked at him blankly. "I've never had a bath in a tub before. I've always bathed out of a bucket or a bowl of water, unless there was a river or a lake nearby."

Arthur suddenly remembered Guinevere telling him years ago that her house didn't have a tub. It hadn't occurred to him that Merlin's experience would be the same.

"Well, it's not complicated," he said brusquely. "I'm sure you can figure it out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

George still hadn't arrived with the food, and the last thing Arthur wanted was for him to walk in and find Merlin. If word got out that Merlin was back, Gwaine would be banging on his door within minutes looking for him.

Arthur stepped out of his room and tried to look as casual as possible standing in the hallway. As though it was perfectly normal for the king to just loiter aimlessly outside his chambers. And he waited for George.

That ended up being the easy part of what should have been a very simple plan.

"I'll take that, George," Arthur said as cheerfully as possible, reaching out for the dinner tray. But George frowned and pulled it away from him.

"That is not necessary, sire," he insisted. "I will set up your dinner inside."

"But you already set up one dinner for me tonight," Arthur argued. "It wouldn't be fair to ask you to set up a second. I'll take care of it."

George looked mildly affronted. "I do not mind setting it up twice. I am the king's servant. It is my job."

The words 'You are not the king's servant' were on the tip of Arthur's tongue, but he forced himself to swallow them.

"George, just give me the damn tray," he said instead. "And then take the rest of the night off."

George frowned. "But I haven't turned down your bed."

"The bed will be fine. I will be fine. Enjoy the rest of your evening." And Arthur grabbed the tray from him and hurried back into the room.

Merlin was just pulling on his shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw the bruising along his side. Wincing, he chose to pretend he hadn't seen and focused on putting the food on the table.

With the grime washed off, the bruising on Merlin's face stood out more starkly, and it was even more obvious how thin he was. Arthur sighed and gestured to the food, taking the seat across from Merlin.

"You're going to tell me everything, Merlin," he said quietly. "And you are never going to keep a secret from me again. You are never going to lie to me again. Are we clear?"

Merlin met his gaze soberly, his eyes wide, and he nodded. "Yes, sire."

"All right. To start with, why did you come to Camelot?" he asked. "Of all the places in the world, why come live in a castle with a king who had outlawed sorcery on penalty of death?"

Merlin was quiet for a moment, staring at his plate.

"People in Ealdor had noticed that there was something wrong with me. I'm not sure any of them could have put a name to it, besides Will. As far as I know, there were no whispers about me as a sorcerer. But there were whispers about Hunith's son, who just seemed like there was something not quite right about him. So my mother sent me to Gaius. She thought he might be able to help me…learn how to blend in, I guess."

Merlin said it very matter-of-factly, but it rang a bell with Arthur.

"You told me a long time ago that you left Ealdor because you didn't fit in. That you hoped you would find a place to fit in here. I asked you back then if you'd found it and you said you didn't know yet."

Merlin nodded, "I remember."

"So?" Arthur asked. "Did you find it?"

"Some days I thought I had," Merlin answered with a sad smile. "I've never been happier than I have been in Camelot, and sometimes I feel like I have a place here. But then something will happen and I'll use magic, and that will lead to me lying and keeping secrets again. And then I'm back to…" he shrugged. "You know."

Arthur frowned. "No, I don't know."

Merlin's voice was deceptively casual, and it was hard to read to his face. "Then I'm back to being alone. How can I really belong when I have to be apart from everyone? I'm not like everyone else. I have different powers, and because of that, I have different responsibilities."

Arthur laughed under his breath. Strangely enough, he understood completely.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He had a thousand questions for Merlin, but most of them were born of mere curiosity. This was the question that had consumed him for the past week..

Merlin poked at the food. "In the beginning, because it would have been pure idiocy. You didn't even like me, and your father would have had me executed without a second thought."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I don't mean, 'Why didn't you tell me the first week,' Merlin. Why didn't you tell me after that?"

"We got to know each other well enough that I honestly considered it. I thought there was at least a chance – a good chance, even – that you wouldn't report me to Uther. But I also knew that if I did that, I'd be asking you to choose between me and your father. I couldn't be sure you would choose me, but even if you did, I didn't want to put you in that position. So I thought I would just wait until Uther died."

Arthur tried to think back. What would he have done if Merlin had told him then? He honestly didn't know. He couldn't imagine sentencing him to death, but would he have tried to stop his father? After all, he hadn't stopped his father when he nearly had Gaius executed.

He nodded at Merlin. "I can understand that," he admitted. "But you didn't tell me after my father died. Also, the food doesn't do much good unless you actually eat it."

Merlin obediently took a bite. "I had a plan," he said as he swallowed the food. "I was going to tell you after your coronation. But then…it seems silly now, but I had never thought about what that time would actually be like. I was always excited about the day you would be king, because I knew you would be a great king. But I never thought about the fact that your coronation would inherently go hand-in-hand with you grieving the death of your father." Merlin gazed apologetically at him. "It seems obvious now."

Arthur smiled ruefully. "For what it's worth, I had that same moment of surprise."

"You were grieving," Merlin continued, "and you were overwhelmed learning how to be a king, not to mention the fact you blamed magic for your father's death. I felt like telling you then would just be adding one more burden for you to carry. So I decided to wait until the dust settled."

Arthur tilted his head in concession. "Fair enough. Then what?"

Merlin sighed and sat back in his chair, setting his fork down even though he continued staring at his plate. "Then time passed. And eventually one day I realized I had run out of excuses, but I also realized I had waited too long. The time to tell you had passed, and I had missed it. And I knew that no matter how I did it or when I did it, you would be furious. Maybe furious with me for having magic, but definitely furious with me for lying to you."

Arthur snorted and shook his head. "Honestly, Merlin, I had rather hoped for a better excuse than that."

Merlin finally looked up and met his eye, and he smiled bitterly. "I wish I had a better excuse than that. But that's the truth. I started hoping that the right moment would just present itself. That I would know it when I saw it. And then you asked me pointblank, and I thought I probably wouldn't ever have a better opportunity than that."

"I guess that answers the question of why you decided to tell me now," Arthur mused. "That was another one I wondered about." Then his gaze fell on Merlin's plate again and he rolled his eyes. "For heaven's sake, Merlin, I haven't poisoned it. You have to eat something. I can't afford to have you falling out of the saddle tomorrow."

Merlin's eyes widened. "The saddle? Where are we going tomorrow?"

"We have a little problem we need to address," Arthur said. "Gaius can give you a rundown tonight when you get home."

Merlin's face broke into an excited grin. "I'm going home?"

"You might as well," Arthur said. "The main point of having you in the dungeons was so you'd run away. Which I really thought you would, by the way."

The Merlin in front of him almost looked like the man Arthur knew, apart from the cringe-worthy bruising and the boniness. The smile made all the difference.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said, and Arthur winced at his obvious sincerity. It didn't feel good to be thanked for just allowing him to see his guardian and sleep in his own bed. Especially not with those bruises.

But all Arthur said was, "Be ready to leave first thing in the morning. And Merlin?" He waited until he was sure he had Merlin's attention. "Not a word to anyone about this for now. But if I decide to let you stay, you will tell my knights. The inner circle, at least. We need to be able to trust each other, and I won't keep a secret this large from them."

Merlin swallowed, but he nodded without arguing.

"Also, I assume this goes without saying, but you are absolutely forbidden to practice any magic without my express permission."

Merlin winced. "What if someone is in danger and might die unless I help?"

Arthur just glared at him.

"I'm serious, Arthur. Please don't ask me to stand back and let my friends die. To let you die. I don't want to lie to you or keep any more secrets, but I don't think I can agree to that."

Merlin looked genuinely distressed. Arthur wanted to stand his ground on principle, but Merlin brought up a fair point. Was he really willing to let one of his knights die for the sake of his stubbornness?

He sighed. "Fine. You can use it to save someone's life. But don't even think about abusing that permission. Now eat."