Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.

Chapter Eleven

"So crystals are bad?" Arthur asked tentatively.

Merlin seemed to struggle with how to answer. "Not bad," he answered finally. "Just powerful. And dangerous." He climbed back onto his horse without looking back at Arthur or the crystal.

"I'll use it to fight the maera," he said. "But until then, I don't want to see it. Put it somewhere and don't tell me where."

"Can't you hear it calling?" Arthur asked as he mounted his own horse.

"Not if I don't listen. If I don't listen and I don't know where it is…" Merlin took a shaky breath. "Maybe then I can ignore it." He swore again. "I should have known when Kilgharrah said it would call to me."

Arthur tossed the crystal to Percival, who stuck it in his pocket. Arthur didn't think there was much point in hiding it regardless of what Merlin said, but Percival was less likely to be right by Merlin's side than Arthur.

"What's wrong with crystals?" Arthur demanded. "You said it's dangerous."

Merlin sighed. "The power in crystals can be difficult to wield. I've dealt with crystals a couple of times. The first time it messed with my head. The second time it nearly drove me insane."

Arthur glanced back at Percival. An insane sorcerer did not sound like a good thing.

"Do you think this crystal will drive you insane?" he asked nervously.

Merlin shrugged. "I won't know until I wield it. Both of the others were used for visions of the future, so they may be fundamentally different. I hope so."

Arthur hoped so too.

Merlin sat on a hill, staring off into the distance. If he looked hard, he maybe saw the outline of Camelot against the sky. But maybe it was just a trick of his eyes.

"So," he heard a voice behind him say. "You're a sorcerer." Gwaine sat down heavily next to him. "You might have mentioned it."

Merlin smiled apologetically. "I couldn't tell anyone."

"I would have kept your secret." There was a note of hurt in Gwaine's voice that made Merlin wince.

"I believe you. But I couldn't tell someone else before I told Arthur. That wouldn't have been fair to him. And besides, I couldn't ask you to lie to him."

"Why wouldn't it have been fair to him?"

"Because he's my king," Merlin replied simply. "I owe him the truth above anyone else."

"You sure take this 'he is my king' thing seriously," Gwaine said dryly.

"He is the Once and Future King. You're my friend, Gwaine, but Arthur is literally my destiny." He turned to look at the knight. "He's a good king. I'm honored to serve him. Even if he is a prat."

Gwaine laughed. "I'll never understand you two. There is no one in the kingdom as loyal to him as you are, and no one as quick to insult him."

Merlin shrugged and smiled. "He'd get worried if I started being nice to him."

"I still can't believe he punched you. More than once, by the looks of it." Gwaine glowered at the bruises.

Merlin's hand automatically rose to touch his cheek. "I wasn't expecting that," he admitted. "I thought he might execute or banish me, and I wasn't surprised when he arrested me, but the punching…that hadn't even occurred to me."

"He arrested you?" Gwaine asked in shock, understanding quickly settling on his face. "That's where you were all week." Merlin nodded.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Gwaine said, "I guess in some ways it's a good sign, isn't it? The punching?"

Merlin looked at his friend inquisitively. "It didn't really feel like a good sign."

Gwaine shrugged. "When a subject betrays his king, the king charges him with a crime and sentences him. Like you said – execution, banishment, even the stocks. But punching? That's personal. That's something someone does when they're betrayed by a friend. He could have responded to the truth as a king. But even in that worst of moments, he still saw you as his friend."

Merlin looked away. The knowledge that Arthur felt the betrayal personally was as bad as the punches themselves, despite Gwaine's optimistic take on it.

"Merlin," Arthur called from halfway down the hill, walking up to join them. "Dinner is ready." Arthur had insisted one of the knights prepare the meal that afternoon so that Merlin would have some time to rest and prepare for what was coming. "You need to eat something, and then you need to get what sleep you can."

Merlin nodded and stood. His body was still sore, but he no longer felt the stabbing pain in his ribs whenever he moved. Even so, he was still tired, still weak. Not the ideal conditions for going into a fight.

Armed with a crystal, at that. And with no idea what to expect.

Arthur sat next to Merlin on a log as they ate, watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. There were lines on his servant's forehead and around his mouth, clear signs of worry. The others complimented Elyan on the food, but Merlin seemed to eat the stew on autopilot, alternating between staring blankly into space and staring at Percival's leg, where Arthur knew the crystal lay.

"I thought you said you could ignore it," Arthur asked him quietly so the others couldn't hear.

"I'm trying," Merlin muttered, and he shuddered. "It's just loud."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Arthur didn't know what he would do if Merlin said no, but the servant's fear was contagious.

"It's the only idea," Merlin said with a shrug. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried about me."

Arthur snorted. Then, after a few seconds, "Maybe I am. A little bit. The idea of you dying scares me. The idea of magic scares me. Put those two together, and I have strong reservations about this fight."

Merlin turned, studying Arthur's face closely. "The idea me dying scares you?"

Arthur looked away from his gaze. "You sound surprised."

"You've been so angry. I thought it might be a relief. You wouldn't have to decide what to do with me."

"No. It would have been a relief if you had escaped the dungeons. That's why I wouldn't let anyone visit you. I thought if I could make you feel like it was hopeless to stay, you would run. It's not what I really wanted, but I wanted it in the moment. I wanted it to be out of my hands, so I wouldn't have to decide what to do with you."

"It's not like you to take the coward's way out." Merlin said the words without malice, but they still landed like a physical blow. Arthur hadn't thought of it that way, but Merlin was right.

"I wouldn't have pursued you, you know. I would have let you go free." Arthur smiled bitterly into the distance. "I would have been furious with you for doing it though. For abandoning me."

"I've told you before," Merlin said seriously. "I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die."

"Because it's your destiny." Arthur raised his eyebrows at him. "You left that part out of what you told me before."

"We hadn't gotten around to it yet." Merlin shrugged. "But that's not the only reason why. I know what kind of man you are. What kind of king you are. Why have this power without a purpose? And I think helping the people of Camelot is a noble purpose. And the best way to help Camelot is to help you."

Arthur laughed. "You've always believed better of me than I deserve." Then he paused for a moment. "I used to think that, anyway. But I guess not always. You should have thought enough of me to confide in me. And I don't think you thought much of me in the beginning, but I guess I didn't really deserve it then."

"It was always in you." Merlin gave him a small smile. "I just didn't see it at first."

"Growing up, my father always talked about the importance of having the loyalty of my people, especially the nobles and the knights. And back then, I thought that meant making people like me. And then you showed up, and you didn't like me at all. But you showed the utmost loyalty. It changed the way I looked at it."

Merlin grinned to himself.

"What?"

"When I told the dragon you were an idiot, he said that perhaps part of my job was to help you be less of one. I'm glad I might have helped at least a little." He paused, then eyed Arthur nervously. "Are you still angry, Arthur?"

Arthur snorted. "I think I'm going to be at least a little bit angry for a long time, Merlin. And I think I have a right to be."

"So stop asking?"

"So stop asking," Arthur confirmed. After a minute, Arthur shoved Merlin sideways. Then he stood and walked away, leaving Merlin smiling into his bowl.

"So how does this work?" Arthur sat across from Merlin. The knights sat scattered around them, trying to give Merlin some space, but staying close enough to see and hear.

Merlin didn't seem to hear the question; he was staring enraptured at the crystal in Arthur's hands, leaning forward slightly as though magnetically drawn to it.

"Merlin! Merlin!" Arthur had to yell to cut through Merlin's trance, the servant finally breaking his gaze on the crystal and looking at Arthur.

"What?" he asked, disoriented.

Arthur looked down at the crystal. It just looked like a translucent rock, white tinged with red. If he really thought about it, he could feel something coming from it, a kind of humming energy. But nothing that drew his attention like it did Merlin's.

"I asked how this works," Arthur repeated. "The dragon said you would know. How exactly is it a weapon?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's not a weapon like you're thinking of it. Crystals like this work on the mind. I think all the Ainthia does is let me fight the maera from within the nightmare, where it's more vulnerable."

Arthur tightened his grip on the crystal in frustration. "I thought it might…I don't know, shoot extra powerful magic out of it or something."

Merlin barely smiled. "I don't think so. I think I simply wear it and go to sleep."

"Maybe the nap this afternoon wasn't a good idea," Arthur realized worriedly. "Do you think you can fall asleep?" He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to if the roles were reversed. He felt the energy of battle pumping through his veins, and he wasn't even the one going into the fight.

"I'm tired," Merlin said softly, his eyes drifting back to the crystal. "I can sleep." Arthur felt a pang of guilt. "Besides, I think the Ainthia might help with that, once I'm wearing it."

Arthur picked up his sword with his other hand and held it out to Merlin. Merlin pulled his gaze free again and looked at the sword, puzzled.

"I know," Arthur jumped in before Merlin could say anything. "I know a sword is likely useless against it, and it probably won't even move into the dream with you. But it's worth trying, isn't it?" It was a vain effort; possibly even silly. But it was the only thing Arthur had come up with that he might be able to do to help.

Merlin offered him a small smile and reached out and took the sword.

"It's worth trying," he agreed softly.

Arthur clenched his fist around the crystal, then reached out with an open hand, the Ainthia resting on his palm. "Are you ready?"

Merlin's eyes glazed over, his hand reaching out for it. Then he snatched his hand back. "No," he said shakily. "Let me get settled first. I don't want it until I absolutely have to."

He found a spot sitting on the ground, his back against a tree, the sword clutched in his hand by his side.

"You don't want to lie down?" Arthur asked in confusion, and Merlin shook his head.

"I know it's irrational, but I feel more prepared for a fight sitting up." He took a deep breath, and then another, and then he finally nodded. "Okay. I'm ready."

His eyes locked on the Ainthia, and his hand trembled as he gently lifted it from Arthur's palm. He didn't blink, seemingly absorbed in its depths as he stared at it. Carefully, Arthur took the long chain and lifted it over Merlin's head, unsure if Merlin was aware enough to realize it needed to be done or if he was already lost to the power of the crystal.

Then, slowly, Merlin's grip loosened. The Ainthia fell from his hand and landed on his chest. His eyes blinked vacantly, then closed.