Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

Chapter Fourteen

"What did Sir Gwaine mean?" Gaius asked Arthur that afternoon. Gwen had been sent home to get some rest, and it was just the physician and the king sitting next to Merlin. "When he said Merlin struck you with magic?"

It took a moment for Arthur to remember. "It was while he was fighting the maera. He was injured – not quite this badly, but pretty badly. And then he just…did something. He healed himself. There was this bright light – honestly, it was almost like an explosion of magic. It threw us all back, but since I was the one closest to Merlin, I was the one it hit the hardest."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Why were you the one closest?"

"I was trying to tend to his wounds. I'm not sure it was really doing anything to help him in the fight, and honestly, he was getting wounded faster than we could get him bandaged. But we tried."

Gaius closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. When he opened them again, some of the hardness had faded from his face.

"Did the magic hurt you?"

Arthur automatically reached out to touch the sore spot on the back of his head. "No. Well, yes, but it was the landing that hurt me, not the magic itself."

Gaius stood. "What was injured?"

"I hit my head when I landed, and I landed wrong on my left arm and did something to my shoulder. Nothing major though."

"Let me take a look."

Arthur was strangely touched by the offer. He shouldn't be; Gaius was the court physician, after all. It was literally his job to tend to the king's injuries. But Arthur understood that the offer was a tentative olive branch.

"I had hoped," he said as Gaius prodded gently at the tender spot on the back of his head, "that he'd do it again. Heal himself, I mean. When he got hurt again, we did our best to bandage it, and we got him to you as quickly as we could. But I kept thinking he would do it again."

"You wanted him to do it even though it would have hit you again? It would have knocked you off your horse at a full gallop, you know."

"I know," Arthur acknowledged quietly. "But I didn't see how he could survive otherwise."

Gaius moved from Arthur's head to his shoulder, and Arthur winced as the physician moved his arm.

"Why hasn't he healed himself, Gaius? Why did he only do it once?"

"I told you," Gaius said, his hands stilling as he saw Arthur flinch, "he would be dead without his magic. It is healing him. Just far more slowly. My guess would be that he spent much of his magic in the fight, and he is too depleted for such an extreme outpouring of power." He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "It's also possible that he was highly motivated at that point. If he hadn't yet defeated the maera, he may have felt a higher level of desperation to be healed. If the maera is dead, he might not feel the same urgency."

Gaius moved over to his worktable and began to gather some ingredients into a bowl. "You'll have a headache for a few days, and you'll need to rest your shoulder for at least a week or so, but you'll be fine."

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, surprised he would go even that far from Merlin's side.

"Making you something for the pain."

As night drew nearer, Arthur began to feel nervous. He'd spent the day so concerned about Merlin that he'd almost forgotten the original crisis that had driven them to this point. Merlin still wasn't awake, and they still didn't know if he had managed to kill the maera. Would it attack another town tonight? Would it attack Camelot?

"Gaius?" he asked. "Any idea when he'll wake up?"

Gaius shook his head. "I've done what I can for his wounds, but most of his healing at this point is coming from magic, and I cannot predict it.

Arthur studied his servant. He was relieved to see Merlin hadn't bled through the bandages Gaius and Gwen had done that morning. He was frighteningly pale though, apart from the mottling of bruises on his face.

"I should have had him heal those when he healed his ribs," he muttered.

Gaius followed his gaze. "He healed his ribs?" he asked in surprise.

"It was interfering with his riding. And I didn't want him going into this fight at a disadvantage."

He looked over and was surprised to see Gaius gazing pensively at him with the hint of a smile.

"You are, in many ways, so unlike your father," the physician said softly. "Sometimes I fail to remember that. You see the wisdom in compassion instead of viewing it as a weakness. Your father was a good king, but I believe you inherited many of his strengths and few of his weaknesses."

Arthur was taken aback by the compliment, but he was saved from having to respond.

"'thur?" a voice from the bed mumbled, and both Gaius and Arthur whipped their attention back to Merlin.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, leaning over. "Are you awake?"

Merlin's eyes opened blearily, but he didn't speak again. He just looked around, slightly confused, until his eyes found Gaius, and then the king. When he finally made eye contact, Arthur couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face.

"Good morning, idiot. How'd you sleep?"

Merlin blinked, and it suddenly occurred to Arthur that he might fall right back asleep again, as he had on the horse, and Arthur needed a piece of information before that.

"Did you kill it?" he asked urgently.

Merlin blanched, his eyes suddenly widening in terror. He tried to pull back from Arthur, but let out a cry of pain as he moved.

"Stay still," Gaius ordered, rushing over and grabbing his shoulders. "It's fine now. You're here. You're safe."

"It was a nightmare," Merlin muttered to himself, eyes wide and glazed. "It was just a nightmare."

Arthur thought "just a nightmare" was a bit dismissive, considering the nightmare had nearly killed Merlin, but he didn't think it would be helpful to point that out just then.

Then Merlin looked at him again, and Arthur had the discomfiting feeling that Merlin's fear was directed at him.

"Merlin?" he asked, concerned.

Slowly, his servant's breathing evened out again. "Yes," he said, the distress not entirely gone from his eyes. "The maera is dead."

Arthur felt a rush of relief. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." There was no note of victory or triumph in his voice. Just exhaustion and fear.

But for the moment, Arthur's relief drowned out his concern. The maera was dead, and Merlin had woken. "Thank you. We owe our lives to you. Everyone in Camelot does."

The fear disappeared from Merlin's face, replaced by bemusement. And then he fell asleep again.

The first thing Merlin noticed was the pain. He felt a throbbing in his torso that seemed to go into the bones themselves.

The second thing Merlin noticed was the very familiar sound of Gaius's snoring. The pain seemed to lessen a little just by hearing the rhythm of it. If Gaius was close by, he felt safe.

The third thing he noticed was the light. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the insistence of the morning sunlight coming through the window. Squinting against the brightness, he opened his eyes.

Arthur was sitting on a chair next to him, his feet propped up on the bed. He was staring at the wall above Merlin's head, his eyes narrowed in a familiar way that Merlin knew meant he was wallowing. His left arm was in a sling, and he had a bruise on his cheekbone.

"What happened to you?" The words came out scratchy. Arthur jumped, startled, and jerked his feet off the bed so that he could lean closer.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed, smiling widely.

He was there and he looked happy that Merlin was awake. Those both seemed like good signs on the forgiveness front.

"Obviously," Merlin said, coughing a bit. "How long have I been out?"

"You've been in and out for the past three days, although this is the most coherent I've seen you." Arthur handed him a water flask, which Merlin took gratefully.

"How are you feeling?"

Merlin considered. "I hurt," he admitted honestly. "And I feel surprised that I'm alive, to be honest."

"It was close," Arthur muttered darkly. "What happened?"

"I was fighting the maera," Merlin replied, trying to remember. "I'd gotten a few good blows in. It was hurt, and the lion's head was pretty much dead. I'd lost the sword though—"

"The sword worked?" Arthur asked excitedly, and Merlin couldn't help but smile. He looked so proud of himself.

"It worked. But I lost it, so I was fighting with just my magic." He hesitated just a moment, but Arthur didn't even flinch at the word 'magic.' "I was focusing on the dragon's head, and the beast pounced and got me with its claws." He shuddered at the memory. "It felt…" he trailed off. "I thought I was going to die."

"We all did." Arthur shook his head. "I don't know how you kept fighting for so long after that."

Merlin looked at him in surprise. "I didn't. I knew I was out of time, so I—" he cringed and stopped.

"You what?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

Merlin didn't want to tell him how he defeated the maera. Arthur still knew relatively little about the depth of Merlin's power, and he wasn't sure how Arthur would respond to the truth.

No more secrets, though. No more lies.

"I used my magic to tear it in two," he admitted.

Arthur didn't respond for a long moment. When Merlin dared to look at him, he saw the king staring at him like he was crazy.

"You what?" he asked finally.

Merlin cleared his throat and took another drink. "I've always been particularly good at moving things with magic. In those last moments, I just automatically went back to what came naturally.

"So you…moved one half of the beast one way and moved the other half of the beast the other way?" Arthur asked dumbly.

"It worked," he said with a sheepish shrug, and then winced at the movement.

"Stay still, you idiot. You're basically held together with bandages and magic right now."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "So what happened to you?"

Arthur stared at him in confusion, then looked down, seeming genuinely surprised to see his arm in the sling.

"Nothing serious," he said dismissively. "I just fell and landed on it wrong. Gaius insists I can't use my arm for a week while it heals."

Merlin's eyes narrowed warily. "And your face?"

Arthur looked puzzled. "What about my face?"

"The bruise," Merlin explained slowly, as though talking to child. "Where did it come from?"

Arthur looked away. "I told you. I fell."

Merlin sighed. "So I'm not allowed to lie to you, but you're allowed to lie to me?"

"I'm the king," Arthur declared pompously. "I can lie to whomever I like."

Merlin waited in silence until Arthur looked back at him. When he did, Merlin just stared at him expectantly.

Arthur sighed. "Fine. When you healed yourself, there was a thing. That happened. With your magic. And you flung your arm and hit me in the face. And then threw me back like twenty feet, and I landed on my arm."

"And on his head," a smiling voice said from behind Arthur. "You're awake." Gaius edged around the king to sit down on the side of Merlin's bed. "You gave me quite a scare, my boy."

Merlin returned the smile. "Sorry."

"I'm just glad you're home and alive." Gaius gazed at Merlin for a moment, then glanced at Arthur and sighed. "I suppose I best let you two talk. I'll go let Gwen know you're awake." He squeezed Merlin's hand before he left, his smile full of relief.

"Why do we need to…" Merlin started, looking after Gaius in confusion. But then he decided there was another question he cared about more. "I hit you? With magic? In the head?"

Arthur laughed, which is not what Merlin expected. "Not exactly."

"So what happened, exactly? Tell me everything."

And Arthur did. He filled Merlin in on everything from when Merlin fell asleep to when they returned to the castle. Merlin went cold when Arthur described how Merlin's magic had hit him, but he couldn't find any sign of anger in Arthur's eyes as he spoke. All he saw was haunted fear as Arthur described Merlin's injuries appearing over and over again.

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered anyway. "I didn't think about what the healing might to do the people around me. I was just…"

"Trying to survive?" Arthur supplied dryly. "I hate to break it to you, but these are actually pretty unimpressive as far as battle wounds go. Besides, I'd much rather have a bump on the head and the maera dead than have to fight the maera again directly."

Merlin nodded, still eyeing him skeptically.

"What?" Arthur asked with a hint of exasperation.

"It's really that easy? I struck you with magic, and you're just going to let it go?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment, his face falling, and Merlin thought he saw disappointment in his eyes. Or was it regret? He couldn't tell for sure. He noticed for the first time how tired Arthur looked.

"You saved my kingdom with that magic," Arthur said. "Do you believe me so unjust that I would be angry at receiving some minor injuries in return?"

"I don't believe you unjust, Arthur. You know that," Merlin replied quietly. "But your response to anything associated with magic can be unpredictable."

Arthur took a moment to process those words before giving Merlin a resigned smile. "Fair enough. Then in answer to your question, yes. It's that easy. And..." he trailed off, looking away. "And I'm sorry that my behavior of late would even make you question that."

He glanced back, and Merlin did his best to offer him a smile. Fatigue hit him like a wave, and he couldn't fight through the haziness to find the right words to say.

"You should get some more rest," Arthur realized. "We can talk more later."

Merlin's eyes were already closed, and within seconds he had drifted back into sleep.