Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
Chapter Fifteen
"Merlin, what are you doing?"
Arthur watched the ladle fall back into the pot of soup with a splash, then looked at Merlin, who was watching him nervously from the cot on the other side of the room.
"Getting seconds?" Merlin said meekly. Arthur raised his eyebrows at him and Merlin let out an exasperated sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.
"Gaius had to go tend to an emergency in the lower town, and he threatened me on punishment of death if I got out of bed without someone else here to help me! Which is maddening, by the way! I just wanted some more soup!"
"What's the rule, Merlin?" Arthur asked patiently.
Merlin huffed and leaned back against the stack of pillows behind him. "No magic without permission," he grumbled petulantly. "But honestly, I was alone! No one would have seen! I'm still healing, you know. I need nourishment."
Arthur rolled his eyes, picking the bowl up off the table and filling it with more soup.
"Someone could have walked in," he pointed out. "Just like I did." He held the bowl out to Merlin, who scowled at him as he reached for it. Just before his fingers touched it, Arthur pulled it back. "You're not even going to say thank you?"
"Arthur," Merlin warned, and Arthur laughed as he handed him the bowl.
"I can't just turn you loose with magic, Merlin," he said with a grin, sitting down on his usual chair next to the cot. "You and I both know it would take you about a day and a half before you'd turn me into a toad."
"Don't act like a toad and I won't turn you into a toad," Merlin griped, making Arthur laugh again.
"Could you turn me into a toad?" Arthur asked curiously.
Merlin shrugged. "I won't know until I try."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Don't you mean unless you try?"
Merlin shrugged again.
They fell into an easy silence as Merlin ate. It had been three weeks since his fight with the maera, and although he was healing, it was going slowly. Arthur came by at least once a day to check on him. They typically talked, but they'd grown comfortable just sitting quietly as well.
"Arthur?" Merlin broke the silence after a few minutes, his voice hesitant.
"Yes?"
"What happened to the Ainthia?" Merlin still looked nervous with Arthur a great deal of the time, but in this instance, Arthur didn't think he was the cause for the uneasy look on his servant's face.
"It's tucked away securely in the vaults, hidden so that it won't be easy to find." He watched Merlin for a moment. "You really hated that thing, didn't you?" he asked.
"Yes. I did. I told you, crystals are dangerous."
"I thought you might like it a bit more after it helped you defeat the maera," Arthur noted.
To his surprise, Merlin shuddered. "If there's a maera, then yes, it's useful. But if not, it's an instrument of torture. Arthur, it should never be used unless it's absolutely necessary."
Arthur stared at him for a moment. "What did it do to you?" he asked, both curious and concerned.
Merlin looked away from him, sitting back against his pillows again and staring vacantly ahead.
"I saw things. Nightmares. My absolute worst nightmares. I saw you killing me. I saw my mother dying. You sentencing me to death and Gaius lighting the fire. Morgana dying. You dying, and I couldn't save you." Merlin shook his head. "Sometimes memories were mixed in and sometimes not. It was all the things I fear the most, mixed with the worst things that have ever happened to me. It kept going until I realized it was a nightmare." He paused. "I tried to scream. To tell you to take it off. Did you hear me?"
"Yes," Arthur said quietly, staring at him. "I heard you."
Merlin nodded. "I thought you must, because they stopped after that. Everything just went black. But if you hadn't taken it off…Arthur, I would have been lost in those nightmares forever."
Arthur tried to wrap his mind around this. Merlin's fear was easy to see, and had been since they first found the Ainthia, but it had been harder to understand. It was just a rock, after all.
But being perpetually trapped in a world of nightmare made sense, and the thought was chilling. For the first time, Arthur understood Merlin's terror.
"Your greatest fears," Arthur mused soberly. "They include me killing you. And having you executed. Apparently as two different things?"
Merlin poked at his soup with his spoon. "They were just dreams," he said finally.
"No more secrets," Arthur reminded him. "No more lies." It had become a refrain over the past few weeks, a gentle reminder of the promise whenever Merlin started to withdraw.
"The first dream…you asked if I killed the maera. When I said yes, you said you didn't need me anymore, and you took your sword…" Merlin trailed off. "The other one, I was on a pyre, and you were on the balcony declaring my sentence."
"That damn pyre again," Arthur muttered. "Why do you always go back to that?"
"Blame the Ainthia," Merlin answered darkly.
They sat quietly again, but this time the silence weighted heavily as they each sat lost in their thoughts.
"You could have told me, you know." Arthur broke the silence. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have been shocked or mad. But I would have listened."
He waited, but Merlin didn't say anything.
"Merlin? Did you really think I would kill you if I found out?"
Merlin sighed. "I don't know. I didn't know. I just knew you would be mad, and I didn't want to face that. I was a coward, I guess."
"Yes," Arthur agreed. He tried to keep his voice gentle; he wasn't saying it to be unkind, but it was true. "You were, a little bit. Somewhat out of character for you, I have to admit." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. He was out of his depth. He could discuss battles and politics and matters of state, but he had no idea how to discuss personal matters.
"It's hard, Merlin," he confessed, "for me to know how little you trust me."
Merlin finally looked up from the soup, eyes wide. "I'd trust you with my life!" he protested, indignant.
Arthur smiled sadly. "But not with the truth about who you are."
"I'm sorry," Merlin said, sighing. "I know I messed up. And I know you're angry. I just…Arthur, I hope that someday you'll be able to forgive me."
Arthur nodded, thinking on those words. "I don't think I am anymore. Angry, I mean. I think the minute I saw you sliced open in your sleep, the anger disappeared. I thought at first it might come back, but now…now, I don't think it will."
Merlin sat up straighter, opening his mouth to speak, then immediately let out a small whimper at the movement.
"Shut up and say still," Arthur ordered, frowning as he tried to articulate what had happened. "I'm still trying to reconcile the Merlin I thought I knew with the real Merlin. But you going into a dream to fight a monster by yourself…that's exactly the sort of idiotic the thing the Merlin I knew would do. But it's also something only the real Merlin – the one with magic – could do. It made sense, seeing those two sides come together like that."
"I never meant to lie about who I am," Merlin said softly. "About what I could do, yes, but not about who I am."
"I believe you." Arthur ran his hand over his face. "So. Magic isn't inherently evil?"
Merlin smiled. "No, Arthur. Like anything else, it can be wielded for good or evil."
"That certainly makes a mess out of Camelot's laws, doesn't it?" Arthur made a face.
Merlin froze, his eyes widening. "You would consider changing the laws?" he asked cautiously.
Arthur realized for the first time that Merlin, who was idiotically optimistic about so many things, was scared of hope. Scared to believe that Arthur wouldn't execute him. That Arthur wouldn't reject him. That someday, the laws might change so he could live freely.
"I'm thinking about it," he said quietly. "It wouldn't be simple. It wouldn't be fast."
"I understand." Merlin's voice was a little breathless, his eyes dazed with disbelief.
"Have you ever imagined it?" Arthur eyed him curiously. "A world where magic was permitted?"
Merlin laughed incredulously. "Are you kidding?"
"What does it look like when you imagine it?" As he spoke, Arthur realized it may be an odd question, but he wanted to know how Merlin had pictured this new world.
Merlin thought for a moment. "I'm not scared all the time," he said softly. "And I can help people without having to hide or pretend that I'm not helping. If we were attacked by bandits or something, I wouldn't have to go crouch behind a log and whisper spells under my breath that only do small things, like make someone drop their sword. I could be out there in the fight, casting shields around you and the knights and actually helping fight back."
Arthur raised his eyebrows. "If magic were allowed, you'd still want to be my servant? I'm sure there are plenty of people who would pay for your magical assistance."
Merlin frowned at Arthur in confusion. "But that's not my destiny."
"Ah, no," Arthur remembered with a smile. "Your destiny is to help the Once and Future King."
"Please don't refer to yourself as that," Merlin said sourly. "Your head is already big enough."
Arthur smirked at him, and then broached the subject that had been on his mind more and more. "I've been thinking about getting another servant."
When he saw the look on Merlin's face, Arthur wished he had begun his proposal differently. Merlin looked devastated.
"You said you weren't angry anymore! Arthur, I—"
"Stop. I'm not sacking you."
It took Merlin a moment to process those words, and then he visibly relaxed, looking relieved and confused.
"I'm thinking about having a second servant who can help with things. Free you up some to do the things that require someone with your…unique abilities."
Merlin blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes. Kind of like the unofficial king's sorcerer. Who nobody knows about. For now, at least, until I figure out what to do about the laws. Don't get too excited," he added when he saw the grin overtaking Merlin's face. "I still don't know much about magic, and I don't know how this will work. But…" he eyed Merlin critically. "I'm guessing this thing with the maera was not the first time you've saved Camelot with magic."
Merlin laughed. Not a small chuckle, but a laugh that shook his whole body, making him cringe and clutch his chest even as he kept laughing.
"Stop it, you idiot!" Arthur ordered him, alarmed. "Gaius will have my head if you reopen those wounds!"
Merlin calmed himself down, still snickering. "Yes, Arthur, I have saved Camelot with magic before."
Arthur glared at him before continuing. "As I was saying, you've saved Camelot before without me knowing, and I asked you to use magic to save it from the maera. It would be somewhat hypocritical of me to turn around now and say you can never use it again. Not to mention it wouldn't be in the best interests of my people. But if you're busy doing magical things to protect the kingdom, someone still needs to muck out the stables."
Suddenly Merlin grimaced and Arthur looked at him inquisitively. "I thought you'd be happy."
Merlin sat silent for a moment, clearly working through some kind of internal struggle. Then he burst out, "Is it going to be George?"
"George is a very good servant," Arthur said, trying to keep a smirk off his face.
"George is a prat," Merlin grumbled, and Arthur couldn't help laughing.
"Are you actually jealous?"
Merlin looked horrified. "Of course not! If someone else wants to babysit your royal ass, they're welcome to!"
"Even George?"
Merlin just scowled.
"I can't stand him either," Arthur admitted. "Even though he is a very good servant."
"You need someone who isn't a bootlicker."
"I need someone who isn't incompetent."
Arthur returned Merlin's glare with a sunny smile. Then Merlin's face softened, and he shook his head in disbelief.
"Are you serious about all of this, Arthur? Legalizing magic? Not sacking me and letting me do magic to help you and Camelot?"
"It'll take time," Arthur reminded him again. "And lots of baby steps. But yes." He smiled. "It will be a new age for Camelot."
Merlin was still in a state of shock as he watched Arthur leave for the night.
Legalizing magic.
The king's sorcerer.
It was the sort of thing he abstractly imagined on his best day, but had never been brave enough to believe would actually happen. Despite all of Kilgharrah's predictions, he realized now that he had never truly believed that things would change. That Camelot would change.
He spent years pouring himself into helping Arthur become the man who would fulfill his destiny. And now…
"The Time of Albion," he whispered to the empty room.
It was coming.
AN: Thank you so much for sticking with this story and reading to the end! It was fun to write, and a little bit challenging since I'm typically more of a drama-and-dialogue person than an action person in my writing. It was good to branch out a little bit. I cannot thank you enough for the favorites and follows and especially for the reviews. But even if you did none of those things but you read it, I'm still grateful! It's a humbling and surreal thing as a writer to have people choose to read something I wrote just because they actually want to read it.
Update: There are now two one-shot sequels to this story up! Papercuts and Fireballs and Picture It are both available on my profile.