Chapter XXV: Confirmation

Two hours after dawn, Merlin teleported himself and one other spellbinder to the stream that he and the rest of his traveling party had stopped at for a short mid-afternoon break the day before. It was only a couple hours' ride from their campsite, and he was reasonably certain it was within Morgana's telepathic range. She might not be particularly experienced, but he'd noticed that she had a great deal of raw power. When she learned to use it, she would be a force to be reckoned with.

"I need to make contact first," Morgause reminded him.

"I know," Merlin answered. His stomach was fluttering with nerves. He knew there was a reason he wasn't just walking up to Arthur's party, knew what might have happened, but he was trying not to think about it. No point in fretting until he knew for sure. "We already discussed this."

The priestess closed her eyes in concentration. "Morgana, sister?" she silently called. "We managed to retrieve Merlin Emrys. What happened in your party since we spoke last?"

Morgana's reply was swift and succinct. "The guards decided that… Merlin's enchanted Arthur. He's practically their prisoner. Uther's orders, apparently. Gwen and I have been keeping our heads down, and I think there's a few members of our party who might help us escape if it comes to that."

Merlin went numb inside even as sweat broke out across his brow. Knowing what his friend's response would be, dreading it from head to sole, he choked out, "When you say they think I've enchanted Arthur…."

"You're all right!" Morgana exclaimed. The warlock could almost feel the witch's joy and relief through their telepathic connection. "Thank the gods, Merlin, I was so worried."

"I'm fine," he confirmed, "but, Morgana, who do the guards think enchanted Arthur, Emrys-me or Merlin-me?"

"…They know you're the same. I'm so sorry, Merlin."

Merlin sat down, hard. His head spun, his ears rung, his breath came in ragged pants, and at some point his hands had begun to shake. How long had that been going on? Just now, or since Morgana's first few words?

Morgause slapped him lightly across the face. He jumped. "They know," he whispered, then, silently, "They know."

"They know," Morgana confirmed, a sigh in her mental voice.

Merlin buried his shaking hands in his hair, eyes wide and staring and unseeing. "Then soon Uther will know too, and he'll spread the word through the bloodcloaks and the rest of the people and everyone will know I'm a warlock. Oh gods. Oh gods. They're going to—oh, gods, Morgana! Are you and Arthur and Gwen safe?"

"We're fine," she assured him. "Like I said, we're keeping our heads down. But. If they do try anything—and they won't. They don't want to risk irritating Uther by hurting me, and Gwen's under my protection—I think we could escape. Elyan won't let anyone harm his sister, Gwaine seems pretty sympathetic to you, and I think that even Leon might help. We'll be fine, I promise. What about you?"

A hysterical laugh bubbled up from Merlin's belly. "How am I?" he shrilled. "Aside from the fact that I've been exposed as a warlock to the entirety of Camelot, I'm just fine and dandy!" His breathing was still too fast, and the shaking of his hands had yet to abate.

"I meant about Sigan," Morgana clarified.

"Oh. Him." The ancient warlock seemed very unimportant at that moment. "He didn't manage to do anything."

"He's still at large, though," Morgause cut in. Merlin had almost forgotten she was there. It was hard to focus on anything other than his pounding heart, the blood rushing through his veins, the sickness and fear in his gut. "He managed to escape us by pausing time and running through the Impenetrable Forest. However, I doubt he'll be up to causing any trouble for a while yet. Pausing time takes a great deal of energy."

Merlin didn't care about Sigan. He was dizzy, his head spinning, his stomach turbulent. Was he going to throw up? Because it felt like he was going to throw up. Oh gods. He really didn't want to throw up, especially in front of Morgause.

"How much time?" Morgana asked.

"I don't know. No one remembers exactly how powerful Sigan was—is—and we have no way of knowing how long he kept time from moving. I imagine he'll lay low for at least a day or two, possibly longer if he needs time to plan."

"So perhaps we'll be back in Camelot when he strikes," Morgana speculated. She paused for a moment, then added, "Merlin, are you sure you're all right? You're being uncharacteristically quiet."

"I'll be fine once I stop panicking."

There was silence for a moment before Morgana instructed, "Merlin. Go to the Isle of the Blessed. Sleep, plan, keep translating that grimoire. I'll tell Arthur and Gwen you're all right. You just need to go and figure out what you'll do now."

Merlin nodded before remembering that she couldn't see him. "Okay. That… that sounds like a good idea. Maybe the grimoire will tell me what would actually happen if we used Excalibur or Beothaich on a resurrected spirit."

"Good plan. Be safe, okay?"

"I'll try."

The connection between them shorted out, leaving Merlin alone with his fear and his regrets. Oh, if only he'd known whether it was safe to use Beothaich when Sigan was possessing—

Gaius.

The warlock's head jerked up, eyes widening with another kind of fear.

Merlin's secret would be known to Camelot within mere days. Nothing he did, short of murdering any potential squealers or putting them in an enchanted sleep or something equally immoral, would change that. And when Uther learned that Emrys was the physician's ward, what would he do to Gaius? Would he believe that his old friend knew nothing about Merlin's duplicity, or would he realize that the physician must have known?

Swallowing hard, the warlock stood up. He met Morgause's gaze. "Thank you again for your help, priestess. I have something else I need to take care of before going to the Isle of the Blessed. If you wanted to go back—or if you wanted to do anything at all, I suppose—feel free."

She inclined her head ever so slightly. "My lord."

"I'm not a—"

But Morgause was gone, vanished into a whirlwind.

Merlin groaned, wondering why everyone was so insistent he was some kind of lord when he very clearly wasn't. Maybe it was just a big joke and they were laughing at him behind his back. Yes, that must be it. But. Back to Gaius.

A few words and a moment's concentration brought him to Kilgharrah's old cave. A few more words rendered him practically invisible. He stalked through the halls of the castle, avoiding other people with the ease of long practice. (If he walked more slowly than usual, if he spent more time than he strictly needed to taking it all in, nobody needed to know.) Soon he stood in front of the physician's chambers and realized that he had no idea what he was going to say, how he was going to explain what was going on. And what would he do if one of the guards came in while—no, no, that was silly. These guards didn't know who he was yet. He was still safe here.

Still, he created an illusion. If nothing else, wearing Gilli's face made him feel a bit safer.

Yet despite the fact that he was completely ready, he still hesitated before pushing open the door. It was silly, he knew, but… somehow, it felt like telling Gaius would make his exposure more real.

The physician had a patient, something Merlin considered both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it gave him time to gather his thoughts, to plan out what he wanted to say. On the other, it gave him more time to fret and sweat.

The patient was one of the guards. In just a few days, that man would be out for his blood. He'd hunt Merlin like an animal, and if he caught him…. Uther enjoyed spectacle, but he was practical when he needed to be. Doubtless he'd give the order to kill Merlin Emrys on sight.

(Merlin knew the guards. He wasn't exactly friendly with any of them, not since Lancelot left, but they'd nodded amiably at each other in the hallways, made jokes about his supposed insomnia. He knew them, and soon they were going to drive him out of his home because they'd kill him if they ever caught him.)

If there was one good thing about Merlin's anxiety, it was that his constant squirming and obvious discomfort kept anyone from suspecting he wasn't visiting Gaius for a health complaint.

As the guard left, Gaius gestured for Merlin to come over. The warlock frowned, momentarily confused, before realizing that of course his mentor wouldn't recognize him when he was wearing Gilli's face (speaking of mentors, he ought to get in contact with Blaise soon too). He glanced at the door, willed it to lock, and dropped his disguise.

To his credit, Gaius's shock didn't last long. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, obviously worried. "Did something happen?"

Merlin opened his mouth, a sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue. You could say that, he fully intended to say. But when he tried to speak, nothing came out but a pained whimper.

Gaius stood, rushed over to him, even more alarmed than before. "Are you all right?"

He wanted to say he was. He wanted it to be true. But he wasn't.

"…I will be. I hope."

Gaius embraced him briefly, warm and solid and real. He smelled like herbs and smoke and long hours learning medicine in this very room. He pulled away too soon.

"Tell me what happened."

Merlin nodded and obeyed.

He started with his decision to confide in Arthur before detailing the prince's reaction, his confusion, his lucky guess that Morgana had magic too. Then he talked about getting word that Sigan was possessing Uther and all that happened then. He finished with an account of his kidnapping, including the knowledge that Sigan was apparently his ancestor, and Morgana's words from earlier that morning.

"So basically they know, they're coming to Camelot, and soon everybody else will know too." Merlin shuddered. "And I, I had to warn you, because I know you like Uther and that he spared you during the Purge, but there's a high chance he'll realize you knew about me all along and… not spare you this time."

Gaius stared into nothingness as he absorbed his nephew's report. He looked old, then, old and tired and a little bit lost. Then he sighed heavily, breath rattling in his throat. "Well. I suppose this was inevitable."

Merlin flinched. "I'm sorry."

"For what? You didn't ask Sigan to expose you, Merlin, and while I'm not sure if I approve of the risk you took in telling Arthur, it seems to have paid off. It's not your fault. I always knew, taking you in, that circumstances beyond anyone's control could conspire to reveal you."

"Then why did you take me in?" Merlin asked, uncharacteristically vulnerable. "If you knew that no matter how hard we both tried, I might end up exposed anyways. Why would you risk your life, your reputation, your career, your home—gods, I've ruined everything for you."

"Oh, Merlin." Gaius clasped a hand on his ward's shoulder. "You're my family. Hunith's only child, Demetrius's grandson. I held you when you were born and put the illusion on your eyes. I might not have visited much, but Hunith's letters were full of your adventures. You were—are—worth the risk."

Merlin sniffled. It was hard to see, for some reason, the edges of his vision blurring. He blinked to clear his eyesight and forced a smile. "Thank you. You're my family too, Gaius."

The old man smiled back. "You're welcome." His smile faded, replaced by something more pensive. "You said that the guards who can expose you won't be here for another few days?"

"That's right," the warlock confirmed, a bit thrown by the sudden change of subject.

Gaius nodded, determined. "Then I have enough time to finish today's work and pack my things."

"…I suppose you do. Should I come back after sunset, then?"

"I would appreciate that, yes."

"I'll see you then."

After his conversation with Gaius, Merlin's day passed in spurts and stalls (mostly stalls). Sometimes, usually when another person who'd recently learned his identity as both Emrys and the local nobles' son came up and asked what had happened, wanting information directly from the source, time passed far too quickly. The rest of the time, though, the hours seemed to crawl by as his anxiety took over and he realized anew that he would be exposed to literally everyone in Camelot within just a couple days, that the secret he'd guarded his entire life was known to all.

It shouldn't be this scary. Merlin knew that. He was safe, he was going to ensure Gaius's safety, and it wasn't like he didn't have anyplace else to go. But each time someone saw his real face and recognized him, a sickly feeling curdled in his gut as he remembered that soon, soon, soon everyone would know.

Gods, he wished he could get that fact out of his head, or at least that he could internalize how ridiculous his fear was. He knew it wasn't as bad as the panicky part of his brain kept trying to insist. He just had to make himself believe it.

Fear, Merlin reflected glumly, did not listen well to reason.

Eventually, he had to get away from everybody else. He retreated to the room that was now his and collapsed onto the hastily assembled bed, staring into space.

Merlin didn't know how long he laid there, exhausted but unsleeping, before the creak of an opening door attracted his attention.

Hunith stepped inside, a sad smile on her face. Though she was technically a lady now (something which she definitely deserved, in Merlin's opinion), she wore the simple clothing of a farmer from Ealdor, just like she had when he was a little boy, only made from better-quality fabrics. She was familiar and comforting in a way that her son hadn't known he needed.

They were in each other's arms almost before Merlin had processed her presence.

It wasn't the first time they'd seen each other that day, of course. It wasn't even the first time they'd hugged. She'd been there that morning when he first arrived back on the Isle of the Blessed with the confirmation that yes, he had indeed been exposed and couldn't return to Camelot. Hell, she'd been the one to show him this room. But it was the first time since her wedding that they'd had an opportunity for a long private talk.

"Are you all right, my little falcon?"

The sound of his childhood pet name made his lips quirk up. "Mother, I've been taller than you for years."

Though he couldn't see her face, he knew Hunith was smiling. "You'll always be my little falcon," she assured him.

"…Even though everyone knows about my magic now?"

"Of course," she replied, sounding genuinely surprised. "I've always known that this was a possibility, from the moment I saw your eyes." He stiffened slightly in her arms. Mildly concerned, Hunith asked, "Merlin?"

"I suppose that I should take the illusion off now, shouldn't I?"

"If you want to. You're you either way."

"…I think I might as well."

When Merlin pulled away from her, his eyes gleamed their natural gold.

Hunith grinned at him. "I always did think you were very handsome this way."

That was right, she'd apparently been seeing through the illusion off-and-on since Gaius had put it there, which reminded him of something he'd wanted to talk to her about. "Say, Mother, I think I might have figured out the truth behind your birth parents."

Tonight, he would go back to Camelot for Gaius and Blaise and his things. For now, though, he would speak with his mother and make this foreign room a little bit more his home.

Despite knowing from Morgana that Merlin was okay (although he did take issue with her method of telling him, which had nearly startled him off his horse), Arthur was in a rotten mood for the rest of the day. Perhaps it had something to do with the lack of detail (because he knew he wasn't just imagining her caginess about how she'd gotten in contact with other spellbinders). Perhaps it was because he was practically being held hostage by his own bloody guards. Most likely it was a combination of the two.

Morgana's insistence that they had at least a little bit of time before Sigan attacked again was pretty much the only bright spot. (Well, that and Merlin's freedom, but that went without saying.) Arthur couldn't help but wonder when that attack would be. At this pace, they'd reach Camelot at about sunset tomorrow. Part of him feared that Sigan only needed today to recover, that he'd come home tomorrow to find a smoldering ruin where the citadel should be. Part of him wondered whether Sigan would attack right after his arrival, wipe out the Pendragons root and stem in one fell swoop. Or perhaps he'd wait until later, wait for them to let their guard down.

Arthur honestly didn't know which option would be worst. Probably the first, he eventually decided; at least in the other two situations, he'd be able to do something about the inevitable attack.

With that grim thought in mind, he rode up alongside Leon. "When do you think Sigan will attack?"

The knight grimaced. "That probably depends on what he's doing to Merlin."

Oh, right. Arthur had told him (and the eavesdroppers, he supposed) so much last night that he'd forgotten what Leon didn't know. Of course he had no idea that Merlin had escaped, somehow.

"…Let's just assume for the moment that Merlin is secretly far more competent than he lets on and somehow manages to escape."

"So did he get in contact with you somehow?" Gwaine asked.

By this point, Arthur probably shouldn't have been surprised by the vagabond's shameless eavesdropping, or by the fact that Elyan was trying to look like he wasn't listening in.

"No. No he did not."

"If you say so."

Arthur's face twitched ever so slightly. "And even if he had, I'd have no way of knowing whether it was him or if he was being controlled."

"…Good point."

"Either way, I don't think he'll attack until after we're back," Leon speculated. "He seems to like letting a bit of time pass between his assaults. I don't think he comes up with many backup plans, so he'd need to plot out each new strategy after each failure. I've noticed that he likes having a huge advantage over his opponents: attacking you in your bedroom, bringing along the Knights of Medhir and leaving as soon as Em—Merlin showed up, making sure Merlin was unconscious last night before he made his appearance. So he'll need at least a little time to find his next big advantage and form a plan around it."

"That's what I thought, too," Arthur admitted. "So. We'll have time to plan a counterattack."

Leon's smile was almost wolfish. "I suspect you're right, sire, especially once we can get more information."

Arthur nodded, his rebellious brain thinking about the other implication of Sigan's probable timeline, the thing he'd been anticipating and dreading and wanting since he'd learned his mother's fate.

Merlin or no Merlin, Sigan would attack. That much, the prince knew, was inevitable. But first he and his party would arrive home, and then….

…and then, Arthur would have a much overdue talk with his father.

So it turns out that NEXT chapter is the one where Merlin begins to see his peoples' loyalty and Arthur has that confrontation with Uther. I edited the teaser thing a few days ago, but, well, a lot of you probably haven't seen that. The next chapter will be up September 28

Alternate chapter title: "In Which Merlin Wears Another Character's Face as a Mask, But in a Good Way"

Lengthy AN: I've completed the draft for this fic! It will be 28 chapters plus an epilogue that's rather longer than the epilogue from Book I. I've got a bunch of ideas for Book III, though I haven't figured out a title yet, and have organized them into a rough outline. It will be different from the other books in that there will be multiple parallel plotlines that I can hopefully weave together at the end. I'm still working on the details, obviously, but I know how to get the ball rolling. Wish me luck!

-Antares