Taste Me In Unequaled Thoughts

by kayura sanada

Sequel to See Me In Faded Memories. Merthur. Merlin and Arthur acclimate to the changes between them. Uther, however, has had enough.

2. Part II

Taste Me In Unequaled Thoughts

Part II

---

Arthur went into a whirlwind frenzy of activity the rest of that day and into the next. The only breaks he took from his search for the sorceress were when he slept and ate – mostly on Merlin's orders – and when he trained his men, taking care, Merlin saw, to beat to hell those who threatened Merlin. Merlin didn't know that it won either of them any favors until Arthur said, at the end of the session, "those who don't trust my judgment, leave my side. I'll not have such people on the battlefield with me."

Merlin cringed, waiting for every man to turn and glare at him – the glare that said 'we know this isn't him, but actually you'. He did get some of them; Jence, in particular, looked ready to turn his sword on Merlin. But most actually looked chagrined. A couple even seemed to be nodding approvingly. Among those few stood Kay.

And those who glared at Merlin were ordered by Arthur in the next instant to sentry duty, where they would remain "for the foreseeable future."

And while Arthur went on an absolute rampage the next day, demanding everyone to search the town, the surrounding forest, to search and see if they could find the woman who had stolen – in Arthur's eyes – his sister, Merlin hardly got any glares from the guards. It made him almost giddy at the same time he felt guilty. They were trusting that Merlin wasn't actually magic, and all the while he really was.

Merlin went to see Gaius. He went to see Gwen, who looked about as harried as Arthur did. And finally he went back to Arthur's chambers, dusted and straightened and even sewed a shirt Arthur had been wearing to a practice and had ripped on the armor. He remade the bed, cleaned the windows, and got Arthur's meal. He even cleaned the headboard and footboard of the bed. His mind raced, chasing around itself, nipping at him. He could feel its teeth whenever he thought of Morgause and Morgana. He had to tell Arthur. He knew he had to tell Arthur. And if he told Arthur about Morgana and Morgause, then he would have to tell Arthur everything. Every sordid detail. Including...

He'd just barely gotten back Arthur's regard, and he was about to lose it again, this time potentially for good. No matter what, Arthur would not forgive someone poisoning his sister. He could never forgive that.

Arthur, when he arrived, took one step into the room and stopped still. Merlin watched him take in the clean floor, the gleaming windows and bed, and slowly turn those widening eyes on Merlin. "Are you ill?" he asked, and if his gut hadn't been about to spill out his breakfast, Merlin might have laughed at just how serious Arthur sounded as he asked.

Instead he gulped, took a deep breath, and said, "I... need to talk to you. About Morgause."

Arthur lifted his chin. "Good." Merlin startled at that, and Arthur strode up to the table, twisted one of the chairs around so it faced Merlin, and sat in it as if it were a throne. "There's more to the story than I know, of course. I suppose there's more to everything that's happened than I know. So tell me. Why did 'blond, pretty, and tall' mean something to you immediately, when it didn't even to me?"

Merlin shivered. "I suppose because I was waiting for it."

Arthur frowned. "You mean you were expecting her to return."

Merlin nodded. Shrugged. "I think you were, too."

Arthur sat silent for a moment. "Maybe. But she's been gone too long. She should have come back again by now if she wanted to finish us off. After the dragon..." Arthur waved it away. "Well. I suppose... I might have been distracted." He scowled. "It's even worse now, Merlin. If it's Morgause, and she's found out about you..."

Merlin smiled. "We can figure it out, Arthur," he said, daring to put the two of them as a team. He smiled quivered. "Or, at least... know that no matter what, I will do whatever you ask of me. And I will always protect you. Even if..."

Arthur gripped the handles of the chair. "Tell me, Merlin," he said, and though his voice dropped to a murmur, there was little else there but the order. "Tell me what it is you're hiding from me this time."

Merlin flushed, then paled almost white. "It's not – it's not like..." It was exactly like that. "Arthur, Morgana has magic."

Before Arthur could do more than widen his eyes and start to sputter, Merlin raised his hand. "When the Knights of Medir attacked, I helped her with the excuse about the medicine because I was helping hide her secret. She thought the reason she was unaffected by the sleeping spell was because she had magic. But I have magic, Arthur."

Arthur processed the knowledge of Morgana's magic for a second more before comprehension dawned in those ocean-blue eyes. "It was something else."

"The Knights needed to be linked to someone to move around. To live again. That someone wouldn't be killed by them, though they would kill anyone else. He or she also wouldn't be affected by the spells."

Arthur frowned. "That makes no sense. She was genuinely terrified, Merlin; she had nothing to do with any of it. And this has nothing to do with Morgause."

Merlin cleared his throat. He looked away, toward the window, though from where he stood all he could see was the sky. Storm clouds seemed to be gathering. "She'd met with Morgause, Arthur. Agreed to help her. Morgause linked the Knights to her." He swallowed hard, remembering that day. He saw Arthur, out of the corner of his eye, sit back, nearly slump in his seat. Saw him cover his mouth with his hand and shake his head slightly, disbelieving. Needing to disbelieve. And Merlin needed to say it all before he faltered. "She didn't know. But still. You were in danger. About to die. I learned that the only way to stop the Knights was to – to kill the living person they were severed to."

Arthur jerked in his seat, but stopped himself.

"I had to make a choice," Merlin said. He fought to get rid of the strain in his voice; Arthur's reaction had to be based on what Merlin said, not how wretched he sounded as he recounted his sins. "As to who I was willing to lose." He shivered, remembering the way Morgana had looked at him. The betrayal. "It's never been a choice," he whispered.

"What did you do?" Arthur asked, his voice equally low. Merlin couldn't tell if it was detachment or numbness that kept emotion from leaking out.

"I poisoned her," he said.

Arthur stood. It was sudden, even though Merlin had thought to expect it. He watched Arthur, ready for him to grab his sword, to put his hands around Merlin's neck. Instead he turned toward the door, hand still over his mouth. His entire frame was pinched, taut. He turned back. "You poisoned her?"

Merlin made sure he kept himself expressionless. "And then bartered her life with Morgause. I told Morgause I would tell her what poison I used if she called off the Knights."

Arthur's hand trembled as he lowered it to his side. "Did she accept?"

Arthur thought his sister was dead. That Merlin had killed her. "She did," he said. "I... I was pretty certain she would. But if she didn't... I – I'm responsible for the decision I made. I as good as..." The words choked on his tongue. He fought once more for control. "She agreed. The Knights fell, and she took Morgana and fled."

This time when Arthur covered his mouth, he turned away for good. Merlin was faced with that broad back. "Do you think Morgana has joined her?"

Merlin shivered. "I hope not."

Arthur turned on him. "Morgana had magic? And you knew? How?"

Merlin looked down. "I recognized it in her. The fire in her room. The dreams. I recognized it because..."

"Because you have magic, too." Arthur stared at him.

Merlin nodded. "I tried to help her. I don't think I did. I kept my magic hidden from her, even though I knew about hers. I think she thought she was all alone. And then – I mean, she'd had problems with Uther before, but it got worse; then she met Morgause and..."

Merlin trailed off when Arthur held up his other hand. "'Problems with Uther'?"

Merlin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "She... might have helped some people try to kill him once." Arthur staggered back. Merlin took an instinctive step forward, then stopped, knowing he shouldn't touch Arthur when he didn't even know if Arthur was okay with him just then. He spoke quickly. "She changed her mind at the last second. But she seemed to regret that decision later."

Arthur shook his head. "This can't – how could I not see it?"

Merlin ducked his head. "I was glad you didn't see it. I didn't want you to see it."

Merlin sneaked a glance up. Arthur ran a hand through his hair. Turned around. Turned back. Paced. Snarled. Slammed one hand on the table. Walked to the window and stared down on Camelot. "What else don't I know?"

Arthur wasn't acting violently toward him. Merlin didn't know whether to press the advantage or remind Arthur of his transgressions. "I'm telling you because I don't want you getting hurt," he began.

Arthur snorted. "So not because you want to be fully honest with me."

"I do want to," Merlin said without hesitation. "But I'm scared to. Sometimes the decisions I make – I hate them, and I hate myself for making them. I hate how far I'll go to protect you. I hate what it makes me become sometimes."

Arthur turned to him, a haunted look in his eyes. "I've seen some of those changes in you. I thought it was because of the deaths you'd seen. The losses you'd suffered. Will. Lancelot. More." Arthur returned to the chair, but he didn't sit in it. Instead he stood beside it and glared at the table before looking back to Merlin. And for the first time Merlin had ever seen, Arthur opened his mouth to speak and hesitated. "Merlin," he said slowly, "what other things have you done to protect me?"

Merlin cleared his throat. "I've killed. I've hurt loved ones, and watched loved ones die by your hand." Arthur winced heavily at that. "I've lied. I've spied on people. I've let monsters loose on the world. On Camelot." Merlin fought against tears. "I've hurt my mother."

Arthur jerked at that. Merlin shook his head. "I don't think there's a limit to what I would do for you."

Merlin didn't bother talking to Arthur, or even looking at him, after that. He just moved to the window Arthur always looked out of and stared down on what Arthur always stared down on. Camelot. His people. Reminding himself of his responsibilities, or taking a moment to enjoy the fruits of his labor? Merlin often wondered just what Arthur saw when he looked down from his window at the world. Who caught his eye? What shops did he look at? Which roads did his eyes trail? How often did he look beyond Camelot's walls, toward the forests, where he ran free for a time before shackling himself once more to his crown?

He listened as Arthur moved around the room and wondered dully how much of Arthur's trust he'd lost. Perhaps Arthur was just in shock. The rage might come later. Or maybe there would be more questions. Demands. Allegations? Did Arthur know the monster Merlin spoke of? Did he guess? Or did he think Merlin was being metaphorical, perhaps talking about men like Aredian who had come looking for him?

He told himself it didn't matter. Arthur had to be ready from an assault from someone he trusted. And Morgause had greater power than Arthur realized – Merlin thought, just maybe, Morgause might have used the time to win Morgana's heart completely. And if she did, then the Morgana who came home would not be the Morgana they'd known. And if she wasn't? What would Merlin be forced to do this time?

Finally Merlin felt Arthur at his back, breathing down on him. He lifted his head and looked at his prince. His king. Arthur's eyes were haunted still, the blue nearly monochrome, his skin pale and slightly glassy. Merlin shrank back slightly from his warmth. "Arthur." He wanted to touch. He didn't dare.

"Merlin. Tell me one thing."

Merlin tried to take a deep breath and found that he couldn't. The air trembled in his chest and stuttered to a halt. "Anything."

Arthur winced at that, but he continued nonetheless. "You cared about Morgana. You care about your mother. Gaius. Gwen. Would you kill them all to save me?"

Merlin shuddered. The very thought of it – of using his magic on all of them. Watching Morgana die. Watching his mother's eyes film over. Watching Gaius's chest still, seeing Gwen's blood spill on the ground. Then he imagined Arthur's blood, Arthur's still form, Arthur's dead eyes. Arthur's death. "Gods. I... I think so." And he hunched into himself, because it shouldn't be true. And yet it was.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was more an exhalation of breath. He didn't touch Merlin, even as he shrank into himself.

"If there was any other way, I would take it," Merlin said. "To save them, and to save you. Anything else. But if there was nothing. If I had to make a choice." His voice failed him, and he shook his head. The world got blurry, and he thought he might be dizzy from not breathing. But no, horribly enough, even someone like him, someone willing to murder his own mother just to save the man he loved, could keep on breathing. It was because he was crying. This would ruin Arthur's impartiality, he thought, nearly hysterical with it. "It shouldn't be an issue," he said. "My mother wouldn't – and Gaius wouldn't, and Gwen would never."

Arthur cleared his throat. "I thought the same of Morgana, just a moment ago."

The tears in Merlin's eyes turned heavy. "No. Morgana was never after you. She was worried about you, too. She was."

Arthur finally reached out and pulled Merlin to him, one tight hand around the back of Merlin's head, until Merlin was bent into Arthur's arms in an awkward angle and Arthur's chin was on his head. "I want to believe the same. She's my sister in all but blood." Arthur seemed to breathe in Merlin's scent. "And yet I can't hate you. You saved my life. My father's life. And you bargained for hers. You didn't just let her die."

Merlin shuddered. Arthur's words snapped something in him, and he leaned on Arthur, wrapped his arms around that chest and curled himself as tight as he could into Arthur's warmth. "I'm sorry," he said. "Even though you don't want to hear it again, it's true. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Arthur."

For Arthur's credit, he didn't tell Merlin to shut up, or shove Merlin away, or even reprimand him for being a girl. He just curled his own arms around Merlin's back and held him. And when Merlin finally stopped crying, Arthur gathered Merlin up and shuffled him into bed, even though it was the middle of the day, and ordered the guards to leave the food and stay away until evening.

And then Arthur spooned up behind Merlin, as he had the last few nights, and he placed his hand over Merlin's heart. Merlin fell into an exhausted sleep.

---

When he woke, he was dizzy and lightheaded and his nose and eyes were puffed up like balloons. Thankfully, Arthur, now sitting at his desk, didn't say a thing when Merlin sat up. He just looked him over for a moment. "I want to thank you," Arthur said. Merlin gave him a wide-eyed stare. "For telling me that. I know it couldn't have been easy, with how I reacted before." Before, the Before that was always capitalized with them. The Before when Arthur had just learned of Merlin's magic and reacted horribly.

The words had a stilted air to them, which meant Arthur had practiced them in his mind while Merlin had slept unaware. Merlin cut in. "If Morgause came here, she must have been looking for something. Are you sure those were the only things she and the shopkeeper had spoken about?"

Arthur nodded. "The shopkeeper hadn't thought anything strange of the encounter until I came up looking for someone suspicious. She couldn't remember all they'd spoken about; they'd apparently conversed for a while."

The while it might have taken for someone to return to Arthur's chambers and get attacked, or perhaps the while for someone else to come to the room while Merlin checked for other creatures. "So she might have very well heard what she needed to."

"I'm more concerned with her hearing what she didn't need to." And Arthur stood from his desk. Merlin was ready for him to pace or move to the window, but instead Arthur came to the bed and leaned over it until his face was a foot away from Merlin's. "She heard about you, Merlin. About us." The word sent shivers down Merlin's spine. Arthur didn't seem unaffected, either. "If she bargained my life for Morgana's, it means she cares about her. She'll want revenge on you for what you did to her." They both winced at the reminder. "And she'll of course want to get at me. I am a Pendragon."

Merlin made a startled noise at the realization. "You mean she'll start targeting me."

Arthur gave an exasperated sigh. "Of course she will, Merlin! Do try to use that brain of yours."

Merlin pulled a face. "But that could work for us." Arthur looked at him as if he were mad. "We could find out what's happened to Morgana. Or if I followed her–"

"Absolutely not!" Arthur snapped.

"If I followed her," Merlin said, talking over Arthur's complaints, "then I could find out where Morgana is, if she'd being held against her will or – or not."

Arthur winced again. Merlin stopped talking. Arthur still thought of Morgana as Morgana. He hadn't seen the things Merlin had seen, the hatred that had blazed in her from time to time. To him, she was still the forthright, confident woman Uther had taken in when her father had died. And to Merlin, too, she was a friend. Merlin didn't want to think ill of her any more than Arthur did. But Merlin had had to face betrayal before, from a whole bunch of magic users that he'd once thought could be his friend. It wasn't any easier, but it was more expected.

Merlin sat at Arthur's table and leaned his head down. Arthur was struggling, and there was nothing he could do about it. He expected rage, fury, condemnation. Accusations, at the very least. But Arthur had yet to throw any his way. Why? Arthur had been so furious before. Merlin's near-death couldn't have just made that go away. So why was he so understanding?

"No matter what," Arthur said, "you are not to take such risks."

Merlin looked up. Arthur was staring down at him, that look on his face when he was being serious, giving his men orders. Merlin blinked. "But it would help you."

"Help me? To know you were out somewhere with a sorceress, alone, taking chances for my sake? My knights fight with me. At my side. They don't go off alone. We work together as a team." Arthur strode to the table and stood beside Merlin. "Do not leave my side."

Merlin blinked again. Something in his chest, small and fragile as a butterfly, fluttered. "I won't," he breathed. He thought he just might understand. Arthur kept his men with him, where he could watch over them. Protect them with his own sword. Just as Merlin didn't want Arthur going off into danger alone, just as Merlin needed to know his magic would reach Arthur if it had to. Merlin smiled. "I won't, Arthur. I promise."

Arthur released a gust of breath. "Good."

It was amazing. Arthur wanted Merlin near. He wanted to protect Merlin. The very thought of it nearly made Merlin giddy. Could they actually be partners in all this? Could Merlin truly be treated as something more than a fool by the man he most wanted to respect him? He'd always wanted Arthur to see him for what he truly was. What he could really do. As a man worthy of Arthur's regard. Could it finally be happening? Merlin felt his eyes prick with tears and quickly blinked them away. It was all more than he'd dared hope. More than he'd dreamed.

Merlin had to leave then, to help Gaius with his potions, but Arthur didn't let him go without saying, "and Merlin? I'll need you back here tomorrow. Early. And not on time 'early'. Earlier than that."

Merlin didn't know what it was about, and Arthur refused to say anything more on the subject. It made the fluttering Merlin had just felt twist into something more akin to lead. Arthur had work to get done that night, and for the first time in several days, Merlin was sent to sleep in his room above Gaius' workplace. It left Merlin even more uneasy. Perhaps he'd been wrong. Maybe Arthur was merely holding back his feelings. Maybe he simply didn't want Merlin to fear his reactions anymore. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt Merlin. Out of what? Pity? Arthur never really had time for that emotion. Compassion? If Arthur was angry, there was no room in him for that. Guilt?

Yes. That, Arthur carried with him everywhere.

Or maybe a sense of – what? Obligation? Merlin had, after all, saved Arthur's life. And Arthur now had proof – not only had Merlin saved him and Uther when Uther had found out, not only had Merlin gone to great lengths to protect Arthur from Liam and Forrest, he had also unwittingly shown Arthur that he'd saved him even when unconscious and dying from enchanted poison. If it wasn't guilt that stayed Arthur's hand – Arthur's emotions – it would be that. Arthur always repaid his debts.

Merlin slept little that night.

The only good thing about getting a sleepless night was being able to get up as early as Arthur wanted and not being even slightly late. He kept yawning like a madman as he made his way straight on back to Arthur's chamber – he'd spent more time in that room than anywhere else in the world, including, he thought, the very home he grew up in; at least there he went outside more often – but otherwise he was as groomed as he ever got for Arthur. Which was to say, not at all; he had clothes on and he'd combed his fingers through his hair and that, he thought, was as good as it was going to get. He'd washed himself some time last night, with the water he would have used that morning. He'd hoped it would snap him into sleepiness. It had not.

He pushed open the door and stopped. He'd almost expected Arthur up; whenever Arthur ordered Merlin to arrive by a certain time, he could almost always be met with Arthur standing by the window, dressed and angry with Merlin because he was almost certainly late. This time, however, not only was Arthur standing dressed and ready, he was standing less than a foot from Gwen, speaking lowly into her ear, one hand on her shoulder. He looked up as the door opened, those blue eyes catching on Merlin. Merlin slowly closed the door behind him, that leaden something curling and writhing within him. As usual, Arthur and Gwen were beautiful together; dark and light, bright and atramentous, opposites that showed off one another's brilliance. And behind the looks were matching minds, kindness where there was steel, cleverness where there was compassion.

Merlin stood there looking at the two of them and thought that Arthur should not have picked him.

"Merlin. I understand that your brain isn't fully functioning even at the best of times, but perhaps you could try to manage more than just standing there like a dying fish?"

Merlin jerked. "Oh! Huh? Oh, yeah." He came further into the room and spied the curtains, once more drawn. He wondered how the kingdom – how Uther – interpreted these hours, where Arthur stood alone with Merlin in his room with the windows pulled tight to prevent eavesdropping. Well. Merlin could guess.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Gwen kept her head down; Merlin thought he heard her sniffle. He tensed. What had happened? Had Arthur spoken more to her about – had she come to speak with Arthur about their relationship? Had Merlin interrupted?

With everything that had happened, with the way Arthur had reacted, even Arthur's assurance that he'd never stopped caring and hadn't planned for something short-term couldn't hold up. Arthur didn't really know what he was getting himself into with Merlin. And after last night's epiphanies, Merlin wouldn't be surprised if Arthur decided it was all too much, that being with Merlin carried too heavy a cost. And if Arthur was to be with anyone, it would be best for both him and Gwen, along with the entire kingdom, Merlin was certain of it, for it to be Gwen. No one else would do.

He took a step back, thinking to perhaps give them some privacy, but Arthur made an annoyed sound and moved forward, faster than Merlin had been expecting, and pulled him right back. Merlin found himself standing right next to Gwen and gave her a guardedly concerned look. She didn't meet his gaze. "What's going on?" he asked, looking from one to the other and back. "Should I leave? I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"Merlin, if you don't mean to interrupt things, then why do you insist on entering a room without knocking?" Merlin opened his mouth to offer to leave again, but Arthur beat him with a quick, "you didn't, however. I merely told Gwen about Morgana."

Merlin tensed all over again. "Gwen. I'm sorry–"

"Don't, Merlin, I understand," she said, her answer coming so fast the words nearly jumbled together. Her voice was a bit wobbly. She really was crying, then. Over what? Just what had Arthur told her? Morgana's potential treachery? What Merlin had done? He looked to Arthur. Somehow, Arthur, emotionally oblivious Arthur, read the panicked look on Merlin's face and minutely shook his head. Merlin nearly sighed in relief. So Arthur hadn't told Gwen that Merlin had poisoned her. Somehow, Merlin couldn't stand to see the censure in Gwen's eyes the way he was certain Arthur should have felt. Did feel? Arthur was too moral to not hate Merlin for what he'd done.

The weight of it all brought that ball of lead back to his attention, but Arthur rode right over it. "Merlin. I brought you and Gwen here today for something else." And the feeling multiplied. Merlin fought against it. This was what he'd known would come. If Arthur was willing to work through Merlin having magic, then he could handle being demoted to friend. Maybe they could be confidantes. Partners? One day, maybe, if Arthur could get over what Merlin had done.

"Gwen and I have spoken about this a bit," Arthur said. "Normally, I would bring it up with you first, and alone. But I know very well what you would say." It was getting worse and worse, harder and harder, and Merlin had to fight not to show it. "So we're doing it like this. Sit down, Merlin. Gwen, please." And Arthur escorted Gwen to her seat at the table – where Arthur usually sat. Merlin nearly sat on the floor, right where he stood. It was with shaky legs that he went and sat in the other chair. Arthur remained standing. "Now."

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek. He'd known telling Arthur of one of his greatest sins would have consequences. He'd also known they would be worth it, if Arthur was ready for the worst. And he couldn't keep such things secret; he couldn't go out of his way to hide it, or let Arthur run into a situation without all the information he needed – not anymore. Not without losing the last of Arthur's trust. He'd known it. And yet still he was unprepared for it. Could he ever be prepared for it?

Gwen cast him a quick look, then stopped and frowned. Merlin tried on a smile. By the further pulling of her brows, Merlin guessed he hadn't quite gotten it.

"Merlin. Well." Arthur looked down, then away, and put his hands behind his back. "We already spoke on that."

Merlin's heart constricted. He cleared his throat and studied the grains of the table. Because it was the prince's table, the wood was sandpapered to perfection and polished to a high shine. It was completely different than Gaius'. With his, one had to be careful sometimes not to get a splinter while one ate.

"But I still..." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gwen. Though I know I cannot be what you want me to be, I still cannot help but see you as queen."

Gwen gasped. Merlin closed his eyes.

"Arthur," Gwen said, and Merlin knew she was watching him simply by the tone of her voice.

"No, Gwenevere. Let me finish." Merlin heard Arthur take a steadying breath. He only heard it because Arthur stood by Merlin's side, just behind him. "When I see myself on the throne, I see two things: Merlin, standing by my side." The small bit of warmth at that was beaten down by Arthur's next words, "and you, on the throne beside mine."

"Arthur–"

"Let me make this clear," he said, cutting her off once more. Merlin imagined Arthur's hand up in that 'halt' position it sometimes took. "I love Merlin." Merlin's heart trembled. It was wonderful, and it hurt. Arthur had never spoken such words before. Merlin wondered if he only could now because the door was closed and the windows covered. "And I will only ever love him. I never believed it, might never have believed it. I might have denied it until the end of time. He is a man, and my servant, and I cannot. But I do. And ignoring that would be tantamount to poisoning myself."

Merlin opened his eyes, no longer certain what was happening. Gwen looked stunned. Merlin turned enough to see that Arthur looked stunned, too, and perhaps a bit dizzy. "And I cannot marry more than one person. Even if I cannot ever marry Merlin in the conventional way, I will still be, for all intents and purposes, wed to him. And I will not marry another."

Merlin's eyes widened. His jaw dropped.

Gwen's brows rose. Then they furrowed and she frowned. "Wait, Arthur. What does this – how does that work, then?"

Merlin looked back at Arthur, still reeling from what the man had said. Marry him? Wed? Arthur looked at him and rolled his eyes. "Really, Merlin! You yourself heard me call you my consort. You do know what that word means, don't you?"

Merlin gaped. He started to shake his head and stopped, because he did indeed know the meaning of the word. Yet he didn't understand. "I thought – but what about what I – what I told you?"

Arthur frowned, his usual reaction to confusion. Then his eyes cleared and he just glared. The glare stopped an instant later, and there was the emotion Merlin had thought Arthur had been feeling since Merlin had told him what he'd done – guilt. "Merlin, honestly!" he said, the guilt destroying any attempt at frivolity. "We'll speak on it later," he said after another pause, his voice solemn. Quiet. Nearly a murmur right in Merlin's ear, and Merlin shivered from it. Gwen looked back and forth between them for a time before suddenly reaching out and grabbing one of Merlin's hands. She gave him a small smile.

"Let me make this clear," Arthur said. "Merlin will always come first to me, Gwen. I told you that before, and you seemed to understand." Gwen's lip didn't even tremble as she nodded; she seemed to be reading something in Merlin, however, and she squeezed his hand in reassurance. Merlin carefully squeezed back. "But you, Gwen, are kind, and wise, and you love Camelot just as much as I. As much as Merlin." Arthur sent Merlin a glance, and while there was still guilt there, suddenly Merlin could see pride, as well. Despite himself, he started to hope. "I want there to be a queen like you. Merlin might never be able to hold such a position, as there is only one king. One man on a throne."

Merlin looked down. "Arthur. I told you before. I'm happy to be your servant."

Arthur huffed. "Shut up, Merlin. I'm not done talking yet."

Merlin managed to roll his eyes. "Of course, sire."

Merlin thought Arthur might have smirked. "Good. Now." Arthur pulled the chair from his desk to the head of the table. Almost, Merlin made fun of that. But it kept Arthur equally between Gwen and Merlin, and Merlin thought that had actually been his plan, so he kept quiet. "Gwenevere." Gwen turned from Merlin to Arthur. "I don't want to force you into anything. And if you accept, you will be held to nothing. You will be queen to this country, but you will hold no obligation to me. There's nothing in any law that actually demands the king and queen be married. It's just assumed."

Merlin and Gwen both blinked.

Arthur sent Merlin a look. "Normally, Merlin," Arthur said, "I would have spoken with you about this first. But I've learned enough about your habits to know you would have simply argued for me to marry her."

Merlin blushed. "It would be easier for you," Merlin said. "This plan of yours–"

"And that's why," Arthur said, cutting Merlin off, "I didn't tell you. This isn't up for debate, Merlin. You and I are a done deal." And Arthur glared at him. "The only thing that could ever call it off is you saying you don't want to be with me. Is this the case?"

Merlin gave Arthur an appalled stare.

"That's what I thought." This time Arthur was definitely smirking. "But while it would bring me great pleasure – and entertainment – to put you on a throne–" Merlin made a face "– the law clearly states that there shall only ever be one king. I can change some things when I am king. I can make a commoner my queen, for instance. But there could be serious repercussions for a kingdom with two kings." Arthur raked a hand through his hair. His body tensed as if to stand, but he stayed where he was and leaned his arms on the table. "I've thought this through as much as I can. Two kings and no queen might be accepted by some, but others – specifically other kingdoms – might call it a division of our land, or an attempt to reconcile greater power. Others may try to rally a force against me in your name, whether you accept such a rebellion or not. The fact that you're like them – a commoner, a – a man of your limited skills." Merlin made another face, but he understood where Arthur was going – a sorcerer. One even spoken of in legends. All it would take was that knowledge to bring every magic user with a grudge against the Pendragons together in a staged attack on Arthur's throne.

And then, very slowly, it hit Merlin that Arthur had accepted, somewhere along the line, Merlin's feelings for him. Arthur knew Merlin loved him. Arthur understood Merlin would do anything for him, that, for Merlin, nothing and no one came before Arthur. And with that knowledge, Arthur had moved forward with his plans. He'd said Merlin and him were a done deal.

A done deal. Nothing would separate them. The only thing that would was a loss of feeling on Merlin's side. Meaning, of course, that there was not – nor did Arthur believe there ever would be – a change in his own affections. Merlin sat back, slack at the realization. Gwen squeezed his fingers again, but now hers were trembling. Merlin focused on her. She was pale, it seemed. Shaking. Her eyes seemed ready to pop out of her skull. Quickly Merlin squeezed her hand again, and he leaned forward. This time, it was he who sent the reassuring smile to her.

"Every time I see Gwen, I see a queen," Arthur said. It was Gwen's turn for the wide-eyed stare. "She's strong, and brave. She spoke her mind to me the way only one other person ever dared speak his mind." Arthur sent another soft look Merlin's way, and Merlin's brain melted out his ears. "She's kind, wise, and loyal." Arthur's gaze turned to her. "You would be perfect for Camelot. But understand that you are under no obligation. You do not need to agree. And as I said, we would never marry. You are free to marry yourself, though it would need to be made clear that your husband would never have a right to the throne."

Gwen made a small noise.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said. "But if we gave your husband a right to the throne, there would be an attempt to bring him to the throne as surely as there would for Merlin."

Gwen shook her head. "No. I mean," she said quickly, seeing Arthur nod in capitulation, "no, that's not what I meant. It's just – why me? I mean, Merlin..." She looked to him, but Merlin just smiled.

"I meant it," he said. "I'm happy just being by his side."

Gwen looked from one of them to the other. She cleared her throat. "Why me?" she asked again.

Arthur smiled. "It could be no one else, Gwenevere."

Merlin beamed at him. Arthur caught the look and quickly looked away. Merlin thought he could see a small smile on those lips. "Arthur," Gwen said. Merlin could hear a small plethora of emotions in that one word.

"This isn't something you should jump into," Arthur said. "I'm sure you'll have questions." He stood. "I don't want an answer today. Or even anytime soon. Ask whatever you need. I just needed to tell you, and to let Merlin know, as well. I didn't want to leave him in the dark, even though talking to him first would have been a complete waste of patience."

Merlin sent Arthur a mock glare, but he was too hopeful and happy for anything more. Arthur kept his eyes carefully off of Merlin. "Is there anything you wish to ask me now?"

Gwen shook her head, her eyes nearly round as dinner plates.

"All that I ask is that you keep silent on this matter, at least for now. My father would certainly not approve."

Gwen's brows lowered. She looked from Merlin to Arthur and back. "The king," she said slowly, "seems to have a problem with Merlin."

Arthur's lips thinned. "Yes."

"Is it because you're... together?"

"Among other things," Arthur said. "Gwen. Can I count on you to keep your silence?"

"Of course, Arthur." And though she looked stunned enough to stumble as she stood, she was steady enough with one hand on the table. Merlin got up to help her, but she was already making her way to the door. She walked like a queen, Merlin mused, all graceful lines and sure feet, even with such news as Arthur's most likely rattling her brain. Arthur went to the door, as well, and as he opened the door for her, Merlin remembered that she'd also been taught of Morgana's possible betrayal. He understood what it was like to carry too much information too quickly on his shoulders, and he didn't envy it of her. He didn't know how to help her out, however. The proposal Arthur offered was one Merlin should certainly stay out of; his input couldn't be used to help Gwen decide. It was her future, for her to decide, and it wasn't a small responsibility.

Merlin waited as Arthur gave Gwen his farewells and closed the door behind her. He didn't even blink as Arthur locked the door behind him. Merlin had come to Arthur's room without Gwaine by his side (the man was probably dealing with a hangover this early in the morning), so of course Arthur wouldn't want him going anywhere. And apparently they still had even more talking to do. Merlin felt like they'd had more serious discussions in the past two months than they had the previous two years of knowing one another.

When Arthur turned, it was to see Merlin making the bed. He moved over to the table and transferred the desk chair back where it belonged. Merlin watched Arthur as he fluffed the pillows. More often than not, Merlin found himself looking at Arthur's heart rather than his body; he found Arthur's love for his people, for his kingdom, even more beautiful than the way his hips moved when he walked. His loyalty was more precious than his position, his bravery hotter than his naked chest, each muscle clearly defined, turning his pectorals and abdomen into hills and valleys.

But then sometimes his looks became everything, more important than anything else in Merlin's world. When, for instance, his expression on Merlin was just like it was now: bright, soft, almost effusive; that weighty stare centered solely on Merlin, as if what he next did or said was the most important moment in the land. A hunter, a predator, a king, a man. Arthur could look like ten different kinds of leaders in an instant. And when such a man focused all his attention on Merlin, what else could he do but be drawn to him? Merlin swore there was no other like Arthur in the world.

Once Merlin finished the bed, he dared to sit down once more at the table. Arthur didn't reprimand him for sitting when he still stood. He didn't even seem to care. "Merlin, I already told you how I felt. Do you not believe me?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. I believe you."

Arthur rubbed his temple and, finally, opened one of the curtains. The light spilled over his hair, his face, and once again, Merlin thought of avenging angels and sun gods. "Then why did you doubt me?"

"I didn't. Not like that. I know now that you care for me." Merlin looked down and twiddled his thumbs. Lying with Arthur most nights had made it difficult to ignore his rising desire for him, and stupidly, he'd been too busy worrying last night to take care of his growing needs. Looking at Arthur like that was only making it worse. "But even if you care about me, it may be a bit too much. Not just the..." He hesitated, now that one of the curtains was open. "The magic," he said, his voice quieter despite how he tried to make it normal. "As you said. I'm a man, and a commoner. Your servant."

"Merlin, shut up." Arthur turned just enough to glare at him. "So what did you think, that I would turn from you as if only now realizing all that?"

"I tried to kill Morgana," he whispered. Arthur snapped his mouth shut. "I know you, Arthur. Your sense of honor."

Arthur sighed. When he looked back out the window, his shoulders slumped. "I have learned more secrets in this castle in the past days than I believed existed. I have been in the dark on too much, and in response, you took on the secrets yourself." Merlin didn't know how to respond to that, and by the time he thought to speak, Arthur said, "you have magic. Morgana has magic. And both of you have needed to fear for your lives. I can't imagine the terror she must have felt. I had seen it, and I hadn't understood. You helped her when I couldn't."

"I don't know that I helped her at all," Merlin said. "I might have even made it worse. I might have hurt her. Perhaps I should have told her about my own magic, but I couldn't. It didn't even enter my mind. I wouldn't even tell you." Merlin cleared his throat as Arthur's shoulders tensed for that short second before settling straight again.

Arthur turned to him fully then. "So many secrets," he said, "and I knew none of them. How many times has Camelot been in danger, and you've gone out in secret to save it?" Merlin stayed silent, because he didn't know, and Arthur seemed to know that. "Too many. On your own, forced to do what you had to do. I know the weight of taking a life, Merlin. I even know the weight of taking the life of someone you believed you trusted." Merlin thought of the knight who had died trying to take Merlin from Arthur just after Arthur had saved him, and he winced. Arthur hadn't wielded the sword then, but he had allowed it to happen. He hadn't stopped Gwaine. To Arthur, it would be the same. "You feel guilt for it. And yes, of course I'm angry! I haven't seen what you have. I've only known Morgana as I've known her. And I want to believe you're lying, or mistaken, or enchanting me, because I love Morgana. But I love you, too." He scrubbed his face. "I spoke with Gaius about her, and he confirmed she had magic."

Merlin's breath left him. He didn't know whether to be glad Arthur believed him or upset he didn't take Merlin's word for it. But if someone said such a thing about Gaius, then Merlin wouldn't trust their word alone, either. Not even Arthur's.

"If you're telling the truth about that part, then why not the rest?" Arthur gave a disparaging smile. "I trust my knights with their reports. Why not you with yours? Which means she truly was the reason the Knights of Medir stood immortal against all blows." Arthur paused, silent for a time. Merlin knew he remembered that day. Merlin remembered it, too; the panic, the fear. The promise. Many nights ensured he would never forget, and even showed him what might have been. Arthur, falling to the knights because Merlin hesitated too long, or because Merlin wasn't persuasive enough. Morgana, dying in his arms. Arthur, burned by the dragon's breath, Merlin's pleas falling on deaf ears. Merlin shivered. Arthur saw it. "You were right. You had to choose. You chose me. Your prince." The words seemed a bit hollow. "According to law, according to the needs of the kingdom, you did what was right." Arthur looked back out the window. "And the sin for me is the same. When your Will died, a part of me was infinitely glad that he had taken the arrow and not Morgana, or Gwen, or you."

Merlin blanched.

"And you. I dare say a part of you was glad it was Will and not me."

Arthur didn't turn, but Merlin nodded all the same. He'd hated that part of himself. The part that had chosen his tenuous friendship with Arthur over the childhood friendship with Will. He'd hated himself for even thinking, for even an instant, that he was grateful. And yet, even there at the end, Will had understood. Possibly before Merlin. It wasn't just friendship that made Merlin horribly, wretchedly happy that Arthur wasn't the one dying. It was something more. And all Merlin had been able to thank Will for, at the time, had been for keeping his secret. But he thought, even with that, Will had known there was more to Merlin's gratitude than just having his secret safe.

Finally Merlin saw the rising tension in Arthur's shoulders and said, his voice not even a whisper, "yes." It sounded like blasphemy.

Arthur sighed. "You'd said you'd never dealt with anything like this before, Merlin." This time when Arthur turned, he walked to Merlin's side and knelt. "Before you met me, you never dealt with life or death situations." He hardly waited for Merlin to start nodding before continuing. "So you don't know. You've never been taught to deal with people betraying you, or dying for you." Arthur took a deep, steadying breath, and this time, Merlin couldn't stop himself. He placed one trembling hand on Arthur's shoulder. The touch was light, and Arthur could easily have shrugged it off. But he didn't. "So you take all the blame for yourself. But Merlin. If your mother tried to kill you, and I stopped her by trying to kill her, how would you feel?"

Merlin opened his mouth, ready to argue that she would never do such a thing, but he stopped. Didn't Arthur feel the same way about Morgana? So he considered it. If his mother tried to kill him – his mind shied away from it. It sounded ridiculous. But if she did, and Arthur had to choose between Hunith or Merlin? Merlin paled. Arthur should never go through such a decision! But if he did have to, and he chose Merlin?

Merlin's lips trembled. "Horrified. Guilty. Thankful. Indebted."

Arthur reached up and grabbed the hand still on his shoulder. "Exactly." Those blue hunter's eyes pierced him. "And about me?"

Merlin shook his head. "Same." Even if his mother had died. "I'd still feel the same." After all, Merlin thought, he'd chosen Arthur even after Freya.

Arthur stood, his hand still on Merlin's, forcing him to stand, as well. "So you know how I feel." And because speaking on emotions was Arthur's Achilles heel, he let Merlin go and stepped away. "Now. I need to meet with my father and his council. You are going to wait here for Gwaine, who better hurry up if he knows what's good for him. Then you will send a message out for Lancelot. And then you will do your chores – whatever's left after your bout of insanity yesterday." Merlin blinked, remembering his fit of cleanliness earlier. He grinned.

"Are you telling me you didn't like me cleaning your room, sire?"

"Your sudden competence is not what concerned me, Merlin," he said, his fingers clenching slightly around Merlin's. Suddenly things between them were easier. Merlin even saw Arthur fighting back a grin. "I thought you might have become temporarily deranged. Perhaps you'd hit your head one too many times."

"I'll be sure to leave a mess to ease your mind."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'll do that whether you mean to or not."

"Your well-being is something I strive for instinctively, sire."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin grinned. Arthur let him go and made his way to the door. "On your orders, sire."

Arthur gave him a look, and Merlin dared make the grin even cheekier, and perhaps a tiny bit lecherous. Arthur blushed and looked down to Merlin's lips. Merlin licked them. Arthur cleared his throat. "Stay here and wait for Gwaine."

Merlin nodded and waggled his fingers in farewell. Finally Arthur left, closing the door behind him.

Merlin's arm slowly fell once more to his side. Arthur loved him. Arthur wanted them wed. Arthur accepted Merlin's magic. He even accepted what Merlin had done to Morgana.

It was stunning. It was beautiful. It was so joyful it hurt. Merlin touched his chest and giggled. Giggled, just like the girl Arthur always accused him of being. He went ahead and bounced onto Arthur's bed, just because he was alone and he could. He stuffed his face into Arthur's pillows. Arthur loved him. Arthur's feelings for him hadn't changed.

Even though he felt like a sap, he covered his face with the pillow and laughed. His chest felt like it was exploding, but that was okay. It exploded with bright lights and sparkling tremors, and it was the most magical feeling in the world.

---

The guards, when he passed them with Gwaine in tow, talking about his adventure the night before, in which he'd accidentally hit on a woman who'd gone to the tavern with her two brothers and her boyfriend, didn't do more than look his way as he passed. They didn't even glare. It was something Merlin hadn't expected, even after Arthur's declaration. And because they didn't treat him like a murderer, a couple of the kitchen maids, when he'd gone to get Arthur some food before heading into town, had cast him a couple curious glances. It brought Merlin hope. They would come demanding information from him, ask him why the guards had been treating him poorly and, most likely, whether the rumors about him and Arthur were true (and he would have to ask Arthur how he should answer that). And once he answered, they would reciprocate, and gossip with him, and he would learn more about what had been happening in the castle, who had been poking around. He would be able to ask if Morgause had been spotted by any of the staff.

So Merlin went to the tavern, where the bartender gave Gwaine the fish eye and the waitress on duty flirted with him non-stop, and asked the bartender and the maid to send the word out to bring Lancelot back. Merlin didn't know how Arthur would handle that – his father had been ready to send Lancelot into exile before he'd basically sent himself. Yet Merlin thought it was the best possible action to take; they both trusted Lancelot with their lives, and having another person on their side would help morale. Plus, he thought maybe it would be best if Gwen and Lancelot actually worked things out together. Lancelot had left her because he'd believed Arthur had been courting her, and Merlin had thought the same. Now he knew he wasn't, and he wanted Lancelot to know, too.

It was during the walk back that he stopped still and looked around. He felt something. It made him shiver. Gwaine stopped, as well, and gave him a short look before standing protectively in front of him. The market wasn't even close to being filled this early in the morning. The sun still touched the horizon, and only a few shoppers were out on the streets. Merlin shivered again, and this time he recognized the touch of magic. It wrapped slowly around him, almost like fog, or perhaps silk. It touched, enfolded, and then sprinted away. Yet he could still feel a piece of it on him. He paled. "Gwaine," he whispered, and he grabbed Gwaine's arm. "We need to go. Now."

For Gwaine's credit, he didn't ask a single question. He just moved. He didn't have a sword, since he was technically nothing more than a servant, so he moved to evade and pulled a dagger from his boot. Merlin just remembered his own dagger, sitting in the back of his waistband, and wondered if he should pull it out, too, or wait and try to catch an enemy by surprise. The idea of trying to use his magic made him shifty and tense. Not only would he be using it in public, but he would be hurting himself, making himself vulnerable. He didn't know if he could afford to do that. If he needed to use his dagger, it would be because Gwaine had already fallen or gotten injured, or perhaps because they'd been separated.

But while many people gave them odd looks, no one attacked them. Though Merlin tried to ready himself for a magical attack, or a magical creature like the strange rat-reptile, nothing happened. Yet he could still feel it, that other magic stuck on him, following him, pointing him out like a beacon in the night for whoever had used the spell. And what were the chances it was someone other than Morgause? Was the magic able to feel his own? If he used his magic, would she know of it?

He itched to pull out the dagger, but he didn't. He didn't even know how to use the thing. If he needed it, the only thing in his favor would be the element of surprise.

Gwaine moved someone out of their way as the person crossed their path, and the man muttered a curse as he walked behind Merlin. Merlin watched him, ready for the man to attack, but though he complained, he didn't go near them. And then they were in the courtyard, and the place was open, almost empty, and guards stood stationed at their posts. They took one look at Gwaine and stood at attention. Merlin saw Jence to his left, and was greeted with his first glare of the day. He didn't have time to wonder at it before Gwaine had him ushered into the castle and up the stairs toward Gaius' rooms. Merlin opened his mouth to demand to be taken to Arthur's room, but then thought better of it. If Gwaine was taking him to Gaius and not to Arthur, then it was for a good reason.

The hall was thin, and Gwaine had to choose to go in front of or behind Merlin, leaving Merlin's other side vulnerable to attack. Gwaine chose behind, and ordered Merlin to duck if Gwaine said the word. So it was with Merlin leading the way that they made it to Gaius' chambers. Merlin opened the door, but Gwaine made him stand outside while he cleared the place. Merlin blinked and looked down the hall both ways. He felt his magic within him, bunching in him like muscles. Yet he tamped it down, as hard as he could, because he thought the magic on him might not be just a tracer, and he didn't know how to be sure without potentially blowing his secret wide open, and to the last kind of person he would want to know.

Finally Gwaine led him inside, and Gaius gave him a pulled-brow look. Gwaine closed the door and ushered Merlin to the bench. Then he stood beside him. "Merlin?" Gaius asked, walking up to him. He had two vials in his hand, and it was clear he'd been about ready to walk out the door. "What's happened?"

Merlin shook his head, looking over to Gwaine, who was studying the door like someone might come bursting out of it. "I don't know. I can't be sure. But it might be best if you leave for a little bit? Take those to whoever needs them." He nodded toward the medicine in Gaius' hand. "We'll stay here?" He turned to Gwaine to check, and Gwaine nodded.

"I'll tell Arthur where you are," Gaius said, and hustled out the door.

Gwaine stood for a few more moments once Gaius was gone, his entire body perched like an owl, or a hawk. Merlin waited a few moments before saying, "Gwaine, I think you'll be getting your fight some time soon."

Gwaine gave a quick, brief grin before turning a much more concerned gaze on Merlin. "What makes you say that?"

Merlin smiled and shook his head. "Sorry."

Gwaine sighed. "Does this secret have to do with Arthur, or with you?"

"Both of us?" he said, though he wasn't quite sure. "I think Arthur thinks it has to do with him, and I don't think I should speak to anyone about it without at last discussing it with him first." And more importantly, Merlin didn't feel right telling Gwaine. The man was great, and kind, and funny. But Merlin still felt that reflex to gag himself, to keep silent. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to tell anyone. He'd been raised to fear admitting to such a thing. It might be impossible forever. He hoped not.

It took a while, and Gwaine kept himself sharp by pacing from the window to the door and back every few minutes, tilting his head at the door and peering out the corner of the window. He twiddled his dagger in his hands in ways that made Merlin sure he should have been cutting himself, balancing the very tip of the dagger on his finger, twisting the blade over the backs of his fingers. And yet when someone's footsteps clopped outside the door, suddenly the thing was in his hand, hilt held tight. Merlin watched, wondering if he should ask Gwaine how to use the thing. Would Arthur get mad if he chose Gwaine as his mentor?

Then one of those footsteps stopped outside the room. Gwaine tensed, but Merlin smiled and stood. When the door opened, Merlin stepped forward and touched Gwaine's shoulder. "Arthur!"

Arthur stepped inside, automatically looking Merlin up and down. Then he turned to Gwaine. "Thank you," he said. "Gaius said you shepherded Merlin here?"

Gwaine nodded. "Something happened out at the marketplace, though I didn't see anything." He turned to Merlin. "He said it was about a secret between you two."

Merlin flushed, even as Arthur shot him a dangerous look. "That's not – I mean..."

And he sputtered like an idiot until Arthur rolled his eyes and said, "all right, then. And why did you choose here? He should have been brought to my chambers."

"No offense, princess, but if I recall correctly, your chambers might very well be the first place someone might look for one of you two."

Both Arthur and Merlin blinked. Arthur huffed a wry grin. "Well! Nicely done, Gwaine." Merlin beamed at the man. Of course Gwaine preened like a diva. "Merlin, shall we retire to your room, then?"

Gwaine's face contorted immediately into a leer. The only thing surprising about it was how fast he managed to switch. "Have fun," he said, and Merlin flushed horribly. Gwaine cackled.

Arthur grabbed his wrist on the way inside, and Merlin was left half-stumbling up the steps. Arthur sighed loudly at Merlin's lack of grace. Gwaine laughed some more.

Once they were inside, however, Arthur let Merlin go and carefully checked to make sure Gwaine didn't come near. Then he checked the room much the way Gwaine had, shaking his head and making several disparaging noises as he kicked and shoved Merlin's messes to the side. "What? I clean all day. Why would I want to clean more?"

"How about just maintain?" Arthur said. "Or maybe don't be such a slob?"

"Nah," Merlin said, smiling at Arthur's annoyed huff. He sat on his bed and watched as Arthur checked the cabinets, the small closet, under the bed, and finally peeked out of Merlin's window.

Finally assured the room was secure, Arthur turned on Merlin. "So what happened? I take it whatever it was had something to do with..." And Arthur waved his hand. "Your abilities."

Merlin nearly rolled his eyes. He knew his room was a bit more private than Arthur thought; he was able to sleep with a minimum of fuss, even when Gaius had patients in the room downstairs. The door was thick, and the room sat on the very edge of the castle's tower, making it unlikely anyone was going to travel down the hall outside unless they specifically needed the physician. So Merlin said, "yes, it was magic," with a level tone of voice. Arthur crossed his arms. "I felt it. I'd never felt anything like it before, but I could swear it was... identifying me." He rolled his shoulders as Arthur's eyes narrowed. "It's tracking me. I don't know enough about magic to know if it's able to sense my own magic, or if it will only sense it if I use it. If it does..."

"That's why you haven't tried to figure out more about it," Arthur said, lips thinning as he thought. "Is there a way to find out?"

Merlin nodded. "But not with others here." He looked toward his door as if he could see Gwaine through it. "And I think – I mean, if there's someone tracking me, looking for me, then obviously they're going to want to meet up with me at some point."

Arthur closed his eyes. "And the chances this isn't Morgause?"

Merlin shifted on his bed. "Probably pretty slim. I can't tell for sure without using my magic, but the magic on me feels like hers, somehow."

"Gods, Merlin." Arthur covered his face with his hands. After one hard scrub, he nodded. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

Merlin cleared his throat and thought. "I don't know anything else. This was my first time traveling through the marketplace since you went after Morgause, so I can't even tell if it might have been lying in wait or a spur of the moment thing. And I don't know what kind of spell it was. It hasn't hurt me yet, as far as I know. I think it's only for tracking. And if we take it off, she'll know someone with magic is nearby, even if she doesn't know it was me."

Arthur nodded. "Yes, I thought of that. But we can't just let her know your every move. While we're trying to be careful, we can't have someone on you every minute of every day."

"So we set a trap," Merlin said. Arthur made a strangled sound. "What else can we do? Either we attack her or she attacks us."

Arthur gave him a look then that was a little more than assessing. As if he was seeing something in Merlin he hadn't ever expected to see, and didn't seem to know how he should feel about it. "It's too risky, Merlin. You can't even use your magic right now to protect yourself. And Morgause and Morgana most likely want you dead. What's the point in keeping you alive when they can destroy me just by killing you?"

Merlin winced.

"Any trap we try to make would be either plainly obvious or too complicated, relying on too many factors. And if you rely on too many factors, then one of them is sure to fail. And if we fail, you die."

"It hurts to use magic, Arthur, but I still can. And I'll have your dagger."

But Arthur was already shaking his head. "I'm not saying this simply because I'm concerned about what might happen. What would your plan for the trap be? For us to try to take Morgause by surprise? And if we fail, what then? Not only do you die, but she could very easily kill both myself and Gwaine – the only two people I can trust with your life and, perhaps, your secret. And if we succeed? We might kill her, thus ruining our chance to learn more about Morgana. And if we don't kill her? What would our injuries be? How could we ensure that she tells us what we need to know? Would Morgana go into hiding, or would she die because she isn't actually working with Morgause?"

Despite everything, Merlin smiled. Arthur stopped ticking off the reasons why Merlin was wrong and tilted his head. "What?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm just so glad I can talk to you like this."

Arthur seemed almost confused for a moment. His lips ticked upwards, then slid down, then flicked upward again. "Yes. Well..."

Merlin leaned back onto his elbows and stared at Arthur, just because he couldn't be seen by anyone else doing so. This was another moment where Merlin found himself helplessly in love. Arthur in charge, ordering others. And again, Arthur in his ridiculously emotionally constipated form, still standing straight but looking like he'd prefer to be anywhere else. Most likely a battlefield.

Anything. Everything. He loved it all.

Arthur cleared his throat again. "In any case, a trap is out of the question. But you're right about taking off the magic. She'll most likely guess someone with magic was nearby. The only person I know with such a gift would be Gaius. And if I know, then certainly Morgana might. And if she does..."

"She doesn't, I don't think." But Merlin frowned.

"If she does, either she'll tell Morgause or Morgause will get the information out of her." Arthur's lips thinned at that, but Merlin didn't really think that was too much of a possibility. Morgause had been frantic when she'd learned of Morgana having been poisoned. She would most likely never dare harm her. But he kept his mouth shut, because Arthur didn't need to know that little piece. "So if we do anything with magic, we would merely have to expect that her attack would change to Gaius. Though she may easily choose to capture him, thus leading you to her anyway."

Merlin ducked his head. That was also true; Merlin would go off to rescue Gaius the moment anything happened to him.

Arthur sighed and leaned against the door. "Gwaine! Come in, please."

Merlin cocked a brow at the politeness, but Arthur was staring off toward Merlin's window, and Merlin knew better than to interrupt Arthur's thoughts.

Gwaine, of course, had no such qualms, and came pounding in, the door nearly slamming against the cabinet beside it. Gwaine quickly caught it and closed it, managing to look both sheepish and flippant. "What is it, princess? Want me to make sure nobody comes near for an hour or two?" He gave both of them that damnable grin again.

"No," Arthur said, as if trying to shoot down any of Gwaine's frivolity. As if that could possibly stop the man. "I need you to go find Kay. Tell him to give you the names of those still doubting me." Gwaine huffed. "I also need you to get a sword. If someone asks, just tell them you're running an errand for me." Gwaine grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Go. As quickly as you can. And Gwaine?" Gwaine looked back. "The moment Merlin states he doesn't want you making those remarks anymore, I better not hear a single sound from you. Are we clear?"

Gwaine just grinned wider. "Then I'll make sure you don't hear, princess."

Arthur looked ready to say something more, but Gwaine was already out the door and thundering down the stairs. Merlin smiled. "It's fine, Arthur. It's nice to have someone teasing me about it instead of glaring at me or threatening me."

Arthur looked even more upset at that, but at least he let it go. "You can sit down, you know," Merlin said, and patted the bed beside him. Of course, the idea of Arthur on his bed was enough to make his brain short-circuit a bit. And then there was the small issue of the two of them being on the bed at the same time. Merlin had to keep his mouth closed to keep from salivating.

Arthur came and sat, but he was rock-hard stiff. There would be zero chance for foreplay here, or anything more to the point. Arthur was on red alert. Merlin supposed he should be, as well. But someone tracking him would wait a bit before attacking, he thought. Learn his habits, see when he was alone, if possible – would the magic tell them something like that, or would they have to get close to find out? He opened his mouth to ask Arthur. "We need to tighten security around Camelot and the castle," Arthur said, beating Merlin once more to the punch. "The magic might only track your whereabouts, but they might not tell the person who's with you or whether the area is busy while you're there." Merlin blinked. Had he and Arthur somehow melded minds for an instant? "And even if it does, Morgause – or whoever it might be," Arthur said, though neither of them doubted it was her, "will eventually either come or send someone to pick you up." His entire body seemed to shiver. Merlin thought it looked just as it did just before Arthur engaged an opponent, in those short instances when he looked over his opponent and found his weaknesses, guessed his movements, and sometimes already defeated the person before even lifting his sword.

"Arthur?" he said, cutting Arthur off before he could go on a planning spiel. "We're going to have to wait for her to make the first move, aren't we?"

Arthur's lips pulled down as if tethered to strings. He looked towards Merlin's wall, then once more out the window. "Yes. Most likely."

Ah. Arthur was tearing himself apart trying to think of something else. "But waiting might be in our favor," Merlin said. At Arthur's look, Merlin reminded him, "Lancelot's on his way. That's one more person on our team. And I need time to recover from what my magic did for me. I might be healed by the time Morgause plans to make her move. And if not, you and Gwaine would at least be able to get a bit of a break when Lancelot arrives. And by then, you might be able to come up with a plan."

Arthur stared at Merlin for a few moments, blinking down from his sitting position on Merlin's grin as he lay back further and further on his bed. He wasn't tired, not really, even though he hadn't rested well the night before. His body was thrumming. He hoped Arthur wouldn't notice; it wasn't something they could do anything about. Not with Arthur so tense and no one else around to ensure nothing happened while they... interacted.

"You're ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur said, but he finally loosened up a bit. They sat in silence for a while, Merlin trying to ignore Arthur's presence on his bed and the ridiculous need in his body. Of course, once he finally got himself to settle down, he really did start feeling sleepy. He found himself dozing off when Arthur suddenly grabbed his head and placed one hand over his heart. He startled awake just as Arthur's wide eyes changed to a blush. Arthur let go of him and turned away.

Merlin sat up. He didn't know that he actually lost a lot of time; he'd felt himself on the edge of sleep, but hadn't quite fallen under. He imagined it might have been an hour or so and nothing more. Arthur still sat exactly where he'd been, right by Merlin's leg. Merlin touched Arthur's thigh when he made to stand. "Arthur."

"We aren't talking about it, Merlin."

"That's fine, just listen to me, then." Merlin gave Arthur a cheeky grin when he turned to glare at him. "Having nightmares is normal. I can't tell you how many I have in which I don't make it to you in time." Both of them ignored how their cheeks flushed at that. "The only thing that upsets me is that I gave these nightmares to you. I didn't mean to. If you need to check to make sure I'm all right, that's perfectly fine. Anything you need, Arthur. Don't be afraid to ask."

Arthur huffed a breath and looked away. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin." But though he tensed again as if he wanted to stand, he didn't move Merlin's hand from him. He didn't move at all.

Gwaine pounded into the room then, and Merlin pulled his hand away quickly before Arthur's Haughty Prince look could be ruined. Gwaine pouted at the sight of them. "Aw, I was hoping to interrupt something a little steamier." He brightened. "Oh, well! Here." He showed off his sword, which he'd buckled around his waist in flagrant disregard for rules or law. "And Kay says Leopold, Justin, Jence, and Solomon have all been seen continuing to whisper about our boy here." He jerked a thumb Merlin's way. "I saw the Jence guy, too, I think. The one I nicked in the forest?"

Arthur nodded. "The one spreading the rumors."

"That's the one," Gwaine said. He gave Arthur a grin.

Arthur finally stood. Even though they hadn't quite been touching, Merlin still felt the loss of his body heat immediately. "I need to check on those men. Where did you see Kay?"

"He was outside the council room to the left."

Merlin remembered Arthur had needed to speak with the council, and he gave Arthur a quick look, wondering if his issue had pulled Arthur from his duties. Somehow, Arthur managed to understand him. "No, my father simply wanted to speak with me about border patrols. I gave him my information and was shooed out of the room. I don't believe he wants to tell me anything significant anymore." His lips thinned again, and Merlin hurt for him. Arthur loved his kingdom, and he took his responsibilities seriously. Being pulled from such meetings would hurt him. Of course, Uther probably thought anything Arthur learned would be reported back to Merlin, who would use it to destroy Camelot or something. Merlin wished Arthur wouldn't get punished for Merlin's mistakes. He didn't bother to apologize, however. He didn't want to hurt Arthur any more than he already was.

Arthur moved to the door. "Do not let him out of your sight," Arthur said, pointing at Gwaine. "Merlin believes whoever sent that creature into my room might be looking for him."

Gwaine cast Merlin a far more serious glance than usual. "Then it won't be hard to find him. There aren't many places he goes, princess. Here, your room, to the laundry or the kitchen or the water pump. The kid doesn't really go anywhere."

Arthur frowned. His lips pulled back, almost like a cornered animal, before he managed to get himself under control. "Just watch out for anything. Merlin, don't leave the castle. I know this isn't the safest place for you right now, either, but at least we know the danger here."

Merlin nodded. "Don't worry about me, Arthur. I'll be fine." He made sure to waggle his fingers a bit more than necessary when he waved goodbye. Again, Arthur's expression didn't change, but he at least looked a little less... feral. "Take care of whatever you have to. I'll do the laundry and polish your nasty boots."

"My boots are not nasty, Merlin," Arthur said, but his voice was a bit hollow, and Merlin didn't bother trying to engage him in their usual tiffs.

"I'll be fine," he said again, and Arthur nodded and left. Merlin solemnly watched him go.

---

Merlin didn't know what Arthur did with his day, but he spent it gathering Arthur's clothes and cleaning each of them one at a time, taking care to get the job done properly, since he couldn't use his magic to help him out. The washroom sat in a small, open area in the back of the castle, still a room, but the ceiling was missing on the second half. Though there a small tower beside the open area, it was merely a guards' barracks, and during the day, it was like a ghost town. The women who took care of the linens for the beds had already come and gone, taking care of their own duties in a far more efficient manner than Merlin ever could, and Merlin decided to enjoy the peace of it all. Gwaine watched both the entrance to the room and the open area from a perch against a wall in front of Merlin, and they traded light banter as Merlin went about his work.

There was something relaxing about taking care of Arthur's things. It made no sense to him; he hated cleaning, and he wasn't a fan of playing serving boy to anyone, either. Yet, if it was Arthur, somehow it was okay. Like an intrinsic faith thing, Merlin believed helping Arthur in any way he could was time well spent, even if it was just making sure that he looked the part of a prince.

So he spent his morning on Arthur's clothes, then his afternoon in Arthur's room, preparing for the worst case scenario, sharpening Arthur's sword and cleaning every link of his chainmail. He cleaned Arthur's shield and checked diligently for even the slightest hint of a dent. Gwaine sat at the table, no longer waiting outside the room but staying where he could keep an eye on Merlin. Most likely, Gwaine thought a person would scale the wall much like the creature had, but Merlin feared more a magical attack. Without using his magic, would he sense it before it struck? Would the trace on him somehow lure an attack of some sort straight to him? He wanted to go and check Gaius' books, but he couldn't. Not with Gwaine attached to his hip. And while Arthur might employ Gaius' help, the king made a habit of slamming into Gaius' chambers too often for it to be safe for him to read around in magical tomes. It would be best for Merlin and Merlin alone to do it, preferably with Arthur protecting him from getting caught. If Lancelot was there, then he could help, too.

Speaking of, Merlin thought, pulled from his wandering thoughts with a grimace, he would probably have to tell Arthur that Lancelot knew. He wondered how angry Arthur would be to learn of it. Merlin would have to explain that he hadn't told Lancelot, that he'd used his magic because he'd feared for Arthur's and Lancelot's lives.

Wonderful. Another awkward conversation. Though, he supposed, it was better than neither of them getting the chance to share it. Better than him taking his secret to his grave, or waiting too long and telling Arthur when their lives were almost over.

His life, he thought. Not Arthur's. The thought of failing and letting Arthur die before him made him want to throw up.

Once he finished Arthur's shield, he even went so far as to clean Arthur's flail and finally found himself itching to do more, to fix everything, to put enchantments on Arthur's weapons and armor despite the fact that Uther would probably find out somehow and chop his head off. He settled for actually polishing those boots.

He was just gathering up as much of Arthur's armor as possible to carry down to the armory when someone knocked on the door. Merlin froze, his eyes wide. Arthur wasn't in the room, but it was common for someone to knock on the door and inquire as to where he might be. Or at least, it had been before he'd been written off as the castle's leper.

Gwaine was the one to go and actually answer the door, and a small assembly of guards stood behind it. Merlin stiffened. Gaius hadn't told him of any plans or extra fervor or mania in the king. Or were these men looking for Arthur? Had Arthur called for them? Or maybe Arthur was injured and they hadn't been able to find Gaius?

Merlin put Arthur's weapons and armor carefully down on the table, not willing to destroy all his hard work, and raced up to Gwaine. Gwaine put a hand in front of him, stopping him from getting any closer. The guards looked from Gwaine to Merlin and back. "The king has ordered his presence in the throne room," the lead guard said. Merlin thought he recognized him. The man had been one of those to threaten him, but since most had done so, Merlin didn't really consider it worth remembering. The man hadn't given Merlin a hard time since Arthur had yelled at his knights – the statement had almost certainly been circulated, and Merlin wondered if the king had heard it.

Did it really matter? Merlin's gut twisted at the thought of meeting the king. What did he want? To threaten Merlin? To hurt him? Kill him?

But Merlin couldn't refuse. Uther was king. And if he tried to refuse, it would be all Uther would need to do whatever he wanted to Merlin. So with a gentle hand on Gwaine's shoulder, he stepped out from behind Gwaine. "I'll go," he said. Gwaine made a noise in the back of his throat. Merlin turned to him. "Find Arthur," he murmured, and let himself be led away.

The walk to the throne room was silent, their footsteps echoing. A couple of servants in the hall quickly got out of their way. Gwen saw them coming and stared at Merlin with wide eyes. He tried to smile for her, but it was pathetic and she merely looked even more distressed by it. He thought he could hear, as they passed her, her footsteps racing away, and knew that Gwaine wouldn't be the only one searching for Arthur.

There were guards by the entrance to the throne room, and they scowled down at him as they opened the doors. Whatever they might have felt after Arthur's words, Merlin had a feeling Uther was working to go against it. These men might have turned from Arthur again. The thought of it made Merlin hurt. Arthur wanted to trust these men. He wanted them to be a part of his team. Uther was destroying something his son had thought sacred, all because he hated magic too much to see what Merlin would do to protect Arthur.

When the door opened, Merlin knew he was in trouble. Even though it was afternoon, it wasn't unusual for there to be visitors to the throne room until deep into the evening. It was even customary for a noble or two to still be in the castle by the time dinner came, and inevitably they might be invited to stay with the royal family while they ate. Now the throne room was clear, empty of even a servant, and Merlin was escorted in by several guards to stand before Uther, who sat in his throne like an executioner.

Merlin looked up to the dais, imagining Arthur in his chair next to Uther. It didn't make him feel any better; the fact of the matter remained that Arthur wasn't there, and there was nothing Arthur could do, anyway. Though he'd asked for Arthur's presence, he knew Arthur could really do little else but bluster and argue, perhaps even put himself in the line of fire. In the end, it was merely because Merlin needed to have Arthur nearby. That was all it was.

"You." Uther looked down on Merlin, and the guards took a careful step away from him, almost choreographed. No one wanted to be in the way of Uther's ire.

Merlin bowed his head. "My king."

Uther humphed. There was no humor in the sound. "Don't bother pretending, sorcerer."

Merlin stiffened, but he tried to affect a confused look as he looked up. The men around him slid their hands to the hilts of their swords. "Sire?"

"Enough," Uther said, waving away Merlin's efforts. Yet he still feigned confusion and fear – well, the fear wasn't hard. "I've received reports that you are staying in Arthur's rooms through the night. Is this true?"

Merlin flushed, even though they hadn't done anything more strenuous than sleep. His mouth dropped open. Uther had been accepting of Arthur's so-called 'indiscretions' before he'd learned of Merlin's magic. He'd simply wanted Arthur to be a bit more discreet. Merlin was positive that wasn't Uther's problem now.

"Your king asked you a question!" one of the men hissed, and Merlin jumped.

"Oh! Um, yes? But there wasn't – I mean, I only–"

"Unacceptable," Uther interrupted. "This court is not a bordello, boy." Merlin blushed further at the implications. "And my son is not your lady of the evening." Merlin's jaw nearly hit the floor. Even the guards had the sense to look uncomfortable. To think the king would be willing to insult his son in such a way. And in front of the guards Arthur himself led. Merlin felt outrage bubble in his chest. "You will be escorted out of this castle," Uther said, and Merlin found the bubble popping in shock. "You will take nothing with you. You will leave immediately, and you will never return to this kingdom." Uther leaned forward. "You have one chance."

Merlin didn't care what the chance was. He could see it in Uther's eyes. This was the beginning of what Gaius had warned Merlin about. To any who watched, Uther was merely sending Merlin away. He wasn't harming him. But he would ensure Merlin didn't get to begin his exile. He probably wouldn't get past Camelot's forests.

"Let go of my son," Uther said, "and never see him again."

Merlin's eyes widened. He could see in Uther's eyes that the moment Merlin agreed, the moment he supposedly let Arthur free from an enchantment, Uther would get rid of Merlin. He had his sword strapped to his waist, Merlin realized, and Merlin held no doubt that he would use it without hesitation. Most likely with a great amount of pleasure.

Merlin shook his head. "We didn't do anything, Highness. And if anything, he owns me. Until the day I die, and beyond, if there is any life beyond death. I am his servant, and I couldn't hope to be more. Nor do I wish it."

Merlin stood as strong as he was able against Uther's black look, and finally said, "I haven't done anything to Ar – Prince Arthur, your Highness. Whether you believe me or not, sire, it's true."

The utter gall made one of the guards tense. His hand tightened on his sword.

Uther stood. His clothing creaked and rustled, and Merlin was reminded suddenly of the sound of wolves hunting through thick grass. "So you refuse."

"I can't undo what I've never done," Merlin said, figuring if he was going to be exiled, anyway, it might as well be for something he'd actually done. He thought of Arthur. He'd just promised he would stay by Arthur's side. Was he about to break that promise?

"Take him away," Uther snarled, and Merlin struggled stupidly as two of the guards grabbed his arms.

"Sire, please." But he didn't know how to plead his case. He was a sorcerer, even though he was pretending he wasn't. He was Arthur's lover, even though he hadn't done anything with Arthur in quite a while. According to Arthur, Merlin was Arthur's consort. Consort. While the prince had a ridiculous amount of power, it was nothing compared to the rule of the king. And yes, it was against the law to be a sorcerer, or to fraternize with the prince. And yet Merlin had done so, and was so, and he'd known all along that this could very well be the result.

The throne room echoed with each step he was forced to take, each yank, each stumble, ricocheted around the room like shouts. Merlin saw Uther's triumphant smirk just as a new ruckus joined in the first. "Let me in!" Merlin heard, and he swiveled his head. "I am your prince!"

There was a hesitation in the guards, and Merlin turned to the one on his left. The man looked torn. He stared at the door like it was a viper.

"Haven't done anything to him, hm?" Uther said, his eyes narrowing. Merlin's heart jumped. He didn't think that was the look of a man who was sending someone into exile. It wasn't even the look of a man sending another to his death. Merlin shivered. "Get him out of here before he does more damage," he said, waving Merlin and the guards away, but he looked toward the side entrance. Avoiding Arthur? Merlin twisted and pulled as the guards did as ordered. His magic once more flared in him, ready to be used. He tamped it down and dug his heels in as best he could. Arthur ordered the guards out of his way once more, and finally Merlin heard fighting. He gasped. One glance at Uther told him Arthur's actions were only confirming his belief.

"Sire," Merlin said, listening as someone outside shouted for reinforcements. Arthur would soon be overrun by his own men. "Please. I would never do anything to harm Ar – the prince. Nothing! I – I love him," he said breathlessly. "I know I'm not worthy of it, or him, and I'm not trying to take him away. So please!"

Uther's face twisted in disgust. "A man loving another man? Preposterous." Merlin's heart hammered. "Enough! Your presence next to my son is my fault. My mistake. And I'm rectifying it now."

Merlin shook his head. "Wait!"

The guards dragged him back, one hand on his arm, another on his shoulder, forcing him back, stopping every launch forward before he could so much as uncoil his muscles. Every attempt actually pushed him further back, closer to the side door, his feet slipping on the marble floor. His magic rose again, slid into his fingers. He pushed it away once more. Arthur's men wouldn't dare harm him, and there was no other reason to use it. He wouldn't hurt Arthur's father. He wouldn't hurt the men who were simply following orders. And so his magic slid back down once more, and Merlin fought uselessly until he was at the door, and one of the men kicked it, and one of the guards outside the door opened it.

Merlin heard Arthur shouting, raging, ordering his men to let him go. He thought he heard Gwaine, as well, and the sound of someone crumbling to the ground. Merlin clenched his eyes shut. The world was too white, too still. No one saw him being dragged down through the side hall because there was no one save the guards posted. Merlin heard everything like it was amplified, however. Each step, each shuffle of clothing, each exhaled breath as the guards struggled with him. This was why Uther had pointed to the side door. He'd already prepared to leave no witnesses.

Then he heard Arthur slamming the other doors open, and even though Merlin knew he was already too far to see, he opened his eyes. "Arthur!" Uther roared, loud enough that it carried down the hall, bouncing up and down along the passageway. Merlin strained everything within him. "What is the meaning of this?"

"That's my question!" Arthur said. "You swore you wouldn't hurt him!"

Arthur.

Merlin heard only mumbles, and then Uther's voice, shouting again, "No! Stay where you are, Arthur."

Then it was too late, and Merlin was too far away to hear whatever they said, and he was carried to the edge of the hall and down another. Merlin knew this route. It led to the jail cells. And past them, down a long corridor, was a tunnel that led outside. "Please," he said, turning to the men, knowing he looked nearly mad and not caring. None of the men looked ready to listen, and he knew it would be a waste of breath. So he tried something else. "Please protect him. If I can't be by his side – I swore I'd stay next to him." His thoughts raced. "Please. Don't let him go off against the king. Don't let him get himself in trouble. Make sure he's safe. I know he's your leader, but if he seems about to do something stupid, you have to stop him."

The men didn't respond, but one of them pulled his teeth back and snarled. When Merlin tried once more to move forward, trying instinctively to get to Arthur, the man's yank on his arm nearly seemed to wrench it from its socket.

When they finally arrived at the side, Merlin saw a carriage ready and waiting, the windows covered by black mourning curtains. Merlin shivered. At the head, holding the reins, was Jence.

The guards shoved Merlin toward the thing, and while Merlin's feet nearly tangled together, the door opened. Merlin saw two more guards, both of them men who had brandished their weapons at him whenever he'd approached. Merlin managed a wide-eyed squeak before they tugged him inside. One grabbed his wrists while the other slammed the door closed on the guards watching from below. Merlin tried to pull his hands free, but just as he was about to demand they let go, the one by the door moved behind him. Merlin tensed. The man holding his wrists tightened his grip still more, crushing Merlin's bones together, and when he winced, a gag was pressed round his mouth. He jerked. Yelped. The sound was muffled. His magic rose in him, ready to shove the man away. Merlin wrangled it down, even as his heart raced.

Then the man behind him shoved his head down and banged on the wall of the carriage, and the horses began clopping away.

Merlin's heart seized. The king didn't even need to hire anyone. He could affect full impunity. Merlin was about to leave the damn kingdom in a completely unprotected royal carriage. He made a small, aborted noise, the gag halting it just past this throat. The curtain was drawn, dark, so no one could see inside and realize there was nothing inside but a bound servant and a couple of guards. The fact that a knight led the carriage just solidified the deal. Merlin clenched his eyes closed. The king didn't need to so much as lift his hand. He could pretend he wasn't harming Merlin, that he was just exiling him – the loophole Gaius had understood as soon as he'd heard the promise. Merlin wasn't going to be harmed by anything the king did. The king's honor would be intact and Merlin would be dead, unable to incant, only able to shove some men away. And the other guard still held his hands. Merlin thought of his dagger, sitting in the back of his waistband. If he could grab it, he might be able to fight back a bit better. And if he could get his hands free – if, say, the guard let him go to fight against the bandits – then he could get the gag off.

And that would be when another black cloth was pulled out, and while Merlin swung his head around to try to keep it from being put over his eyes, it was wrapped around his wrists.

Okay. He could still at least get the gag off if he had to. If no one was looking. If they were attacked.

When they were attacked.

The horses' hooves clipped loudly against the cobblestone, and Merlin found himself struggling where he stood hunched in between the benches as the carriage bucked slightly. One of the men – the one behind him – grabbed his shoulder and pulled him harshly down. Merlin's butt slammed into the bench, and he winced. The guards didn't seem to care. While the previous ones might have looked somewhat hesitant, these two looked ready to skewer him if he cleared his throat too loudly. He kept his eyes on the carriage floor and hunched his shoulders in.

It was over. What could Merlin do? It was the king. He'd ordered Merlin's exile, and there was no way to repeal it. The king would never dare. And what would Arthur do? Rant, rage, scream? He couldn't chase after Merlin, not without being branded mad, or a traitor, or something even worse. The king could lock him up. Beat him. Whip him. Gods, please let Arthur keep hold of his senses.

But Merlin had made a promise. And even if he hadn't, he had to do something. Returning to Camelot might not have worked, but something else? Staying in the forest? Only Merlin didn't know anything about hunting or even camping, and he didn't yet know enough about herbs. And staying in the forest would be useless; even if Morgause wasn't after him, he would most likely not know of any danger to Arthur's life until it was too late.

Maybe he could return in disguise. Could that work? Was there magic that could do that? He didn't know, and he didn't have his book to try to find something. He shifted in his seat, his ass hurting from the abrupt slam. Both guards watched him, hands on their swords. So they had orders to harm him the minute he fought back? But of course they did. He was a vile, evil sorcerer who had manipulated the king's son.

He closed his eyes again, let himself feel the change from cobblestones to dirt, the easier slide of the wheels, the softer sound of the horses' hooves, the change in scent from city to open air. Soon the scent of pine wafted through the curtains. Yet before all that, he was aware of the pinch in his shoulders, the soft, unyielding fibers around his wrists, the taste of cloth on his tongue.

He'd thought he would face the pyre, or beheading, or perhaps an attack from one of the guards, or maybe a horde of them, working on Uther's command. He'd thought he would remain by Arthur's side until the very end.

He imagined returning, finally having found a way to disguise himself, only to learn that it was too late, that Arthur was dead, that he'd failed in his destiny. All by that one horrid, stupid mistake. He should have made sure Uther was unconscious. He should have knocked him unconscious himself. And now it was too late, and of anyone, Arthur would be the one to suffer the consequences.

Merlin lost track of time. All he knew was the the carriage kept moving, the guards kept watching him, and no one shouted for him. Undoubtedly, Uther was keeping Arthur busy, perhaps forcing him to stand by his side as Merlin slipped away, or even taking him to the dungeons to wait for Merlin's demise and see if Arthur suddenly snapped out of it. To see if Merlin's supposed enchantment really did continue after Merlin's death.

And when Arthur's feelings didn't change? When Arthur remained loyal to Merlin? Would Uther still consider it an enchantment? Would he wait to see if it faded with time? And what about Arthur?

Merlin clenched his hands into fists. He heard the guards shift, ready to strike, but he didn't let himself care. When Arthur found out Merlin was dead. What would he do then? How would he respond? Would he try to kill his father, like he had when he'd learned of his mother's fate? Would he renounce his title? The throne? He couldn't! Arthur had to become king. It was his destiny. It was his birthright. It was who he was.

Merlin shivered as a gust of wind swept through the curtain, making it flutter. One of the guards grabbed it and pulled it shut. It was dark in the carriage, almost oppressively so. The sun had finally set. Merlin wondered if the guards knew of the king's plan, and what they would do once the bandits struck. Were they ready for the bandits to come? Would they jump out of the carriage and run? Just stand back and let the bandits inside? Or – more likely – would they skewer Merlin themselves and say the bandits did it?

Or did they not know? Would they be surprised?

Merlin got his answer before he could consider any farther; someone shouted from outside the carriage, and Merlin distinctly heard Jence say, "shit!"

Merlin tensed as both guards stood and unsheathed their swords. But neither of them looked at him. Both turned their attention to the window.

It was his best chance. Merlin reached up and yanked off his gag. He reached out his hands and whispered, "Ic þé wiþdrífe," and both guards smacked into the side of the carriage. The entire thing shook, Merlin's attack going a bit too widespread with his hands bound, and Jence cursed again. Merlin nearly fell, both to the carriage rolling around and the nausea creeping up his throat from the pain lancing his arms and chest. To save himself from a fall, he sat hard on the bench. He winced all over again as his sore rear was dealt another hard blow.

Merlin waited a short second to make sure his feet were steady, and then he launched straight back up and made for the carriage door. He heard Jence jump down from the front seat and stilled, ready to attack the man if he came after Merlin. Instead he thought he heard Jence running slightly away. And then the sound was confirmed; Merlin heard Gwaine shout. He jumped and clawed at the door. His hands, bound as they were, refused to twist properly for him to get a good handhold. He snarled and tensed, preparing himself. "Aliese."

The door unlocked, and Merlin hurried out. He barely managed to stumble to the ground before the sounds of battle assaulted his ears. He turned his head and found Gwaine, armed with the sword Arthur had had the foresight to demand he carry, facing off against Jence at the edge of the forest. Jence, who had the common sense to stay back, having learned of Gwaine's skill the last time they'd fought.

"Gwaine!" Merlin shouted, stupidly glad to see his friend. Gwaine looked up at Merlin's call, his furious mask switching to relieved to happy to, as Gwaine took in Merlin's bound hands and the gag hanging over his handkerchief, a new level of enraged.

They were on the main road. Merlin eyed the area as well as he could through the gloom. The forest around Camelot encroached on every side, stretching for a ways forward and back. Merlin knew the stretch; he'd traveled it himself on his way to Camelot, but he'd at least known enough to take the small paths further inside the forest, hiding from prying eyes. And he'd never traveled at night. The carriage, noble cast, of the castle itself, was bound to have grabbed attention. Was anyone watching them right now, wondering if a nobleman waited inside?

And there. Merlin saw it, used to searching for movement within the trees after so many hunts with Arthur. A quick flicker of a bush. A large shadow darting out from behind a tree. Though Merlin wasn't exactly an expert, so whoever was out there wouldn't have been the type of group to go after the carriage if it had its normal retinue of guards (unless they were stupid, couldn't rule that out), it was obvious whoever was out there was preparing to attack. Merlin turned back to Gwaine, tugging uselessly at his bonds as he did. Jence was obviously outmatched, Gwaine's anger apparently giving him even greater strength. Gwaine swung fast and hard, two hands on the sword, and chased Jence when he danced out of the way.

Merlin squinted through the darkness, trying to find some way to help Gwaine before the bandits attacked. So of course that was when the bandits attacked.

They were either stupid or amateurs, just as Merlin deduced; while those bandits who attacked a group of riding knights at least knew to stay quiet and use the element of surprise, these men jumped out onto the road with shouts and yells. Merlin even saw a couple raise their swords and shake them.

Maybe they were both amateurs and idiots.

Gwaine saw them coming, and with one flicker of a glance toward Merlin – toward Merlin's bound hands – he snarled and hacked down. Merlin yelped. Gwaine's sword slashed right under Jence's defense, cutting through his chest. Jence stumbled back, dropped his sword, and fell. Gwaine stepped quickly over him to Merlin's side. "Are you hurt?" he asked. Merlin mutely shook his head. "Stay behind me."

The bandits, when they attacked Gwaine, attacked like a horde of monkeys, each nearly cutting into one another in their haste to get to him. While it meant they were in disarray, it also meant Gwaine was caught on three sides. He used his sword as a shield and slid away from another attack, elbowing the man before he could reach Merlin. Then he shoved those in front of him away with pure brute force and cut another down. The bandits rallied against him.

Merlin took a couple of steps back, hitting the line of trees, and squinted again. He couldn't see well in the dark; he'd become too used to the constant lights of Camelot. But he thought he could see enough. The men were running from the opposite side of the street to them, and as they came close, they passed under a small canopy of branches. "Forbearnan firgenholt." The sudden fire was bright and unmistakable, and Merlin flinched, even as the branch fell on top of two of the bandits. A couple stopped, looking from Gwaine to Merlin and back. One slid an uneasy glance toward the carriage. The others, however, seemed to be of the opinion that the culprit was Gwaine, and they charged him as one. Merlin wrenched at his bonds and took another step back as Gwaine engaged. It was too dark to make out the exact number of men, though Merlin squinted as best he could. He knew there was a spell to make one see in the dark, but he hadn't learned it yet.

Then one of the bandits went after him, and Merlin had to jump back to avoid the man's axe. He was huge, yet he moved silently; Gwaine didn't even yet look over to find out why Merlin had moved. Merlin shoved the man away with his magic. He flinched again, this time harder; without conducting his magic with words, it seemed the pain was even worse. He panted. The man smacked hard against the trees and rolled, dropping his weapon. Merlin raced over to it and rubbed the cloth binding his wrists over the blade. With a satisfying snap, the linen loosened and he was free.

He jumped back again, ready for the hulking monster of a man to rear up, but he stayed down. Merlin shuffled around in the grass for a second, then threw a stone at the man just in case. The bandit didn't even flinch. Then Merlin saw the blood coating the man's bedraggled hair and sighed. At least the man wouldn't be attacking anymore.

Gwaine, too, seemed to be slowly pushing back his own horde of enemies, and when some saw the giant's prone form on the ground, they turned and fled. Had he been their leader? But at least with less enemies to outmaneuver, Gwaine cut through one, then sliced away another's weapon, and then they all seemed to want to run. Gwaine let them. "And don't come back!" he shouted, because Merlin didn't think the man could go a full day without goading someone, and then he turned back to Merlin. He spied the bear of a man then and paled. "Are you all right?"

Merlin nodded. "He tripped," he said, and beamed.

Gwaine huffed. "Thank goodness those men were idiots," he said.

Merlin had to agree. Even with their lack of skill, their sheer numbers might have proven too much. The king had nearly gotten what he'd wanted. "How did you find me? I mean, thank you, thank you so much. But how did you find me?"

Gwaine grinned. "Don't mention it, lover boy." And Gwaine messed with Merlin's hair, nearly giving him a noogie. The action reminded him of Arthur, of how Arthur had cheered him up after Freya's death. Merlin's insides wrenched and tore at the memory. "Arthur sent me after you while he stormed the keep, so to say. I stole a horse." He shrugged as if it didn't bother him in the least. It probably didn't.

Merlin giggled as he realized, in a fit of temper, that he didn't rightly care, either. "And Arthur?" he asked. "Did Arthur ask anything of you? Of me?"

Gwaine shook his head. "No," he said. "He didn't have the time."

And though it was about what Merlin had expected, still it hurt. He couldn't return to Camelot. At least, not as he was. He would have to return in disguise. And he wouldn't be able to stay by Arthur's side. Not the way he'd been before. But he'd made a promise, and it was one he would keep. Somehow, he would find a way to return to Arthur.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Merlin," Gwaine said, clapping Merlin on the shoulder. Merlin's legs buckled. "We'll take care of it. I'm sure Arthur's thinking of something."

But Gwaine's voice didn't hold much hope, and Merlin knew better. "It's the king's order," he said, even though they both knew that full well. "If Arthur tries to fight it, things will only get worse."

Gwaine didn't say anything to that. What was there to say? It was the truth. Merlin turned to him. "Still, I have to go back."

Gwaine frowned. "And how exactly do you propose to do that? The king'll kill you if he sees you. You know that, right? Look, I can take you somewhere safe. At least until the princess sends you a message, yeah? Do you know anywhere you can go?"

Ealdor, he thought, but he shook his head. "I promised Arthur I would stay by his side."

Gwaine scoffed. Looked at Merlin's resolute face. Sighed. "Geez, I can't believe you. You'll just walk into death for that guy?"

Merlin nodded. "So would you," he said, and cocked Gwaine a grin. Thankfully, Gwaine returned it.

"Don't tell the man that. He's got a big enough head."

Merlin laughed.

Suddenly Gwaine grabbed Merlin's shoulder, and at the same instant, Merlin felt something on him spring forward. The tracking spell. He winced as it flowed over him. He hadn't even thought of it. Had it told Morgause of his magic? Did she know?

Gwaine held his sword up, pointed toward where Merlin had stood just a moment before. This time, even Merlin heard the soft sound of rustling leaves. He might have thought of it as just a rabbit scampering home, or perhaps a result of a gust of wind. But Gwaine called out, "who goes there? Step forward."

Merlin saw her cloak first. It billowed and furled like black fog. Morgause pulled the hood off then, and Merlin saw the bright splash of curls. Gwaine began to lower his sword. "No!" Merlin hissed, but Morgause was already raising her hand, and with nothing more than a flick of her wrist, Gwaine went flying to the side. He smacked into the same tree the bandit leader had, and with a short shout, crumpled down on top of him.

"Gwaine!" Morgause laughed. Merlin's gaze flew back to her.

"Merlin." She almost seemed like she was sounding out his name. "Nice to meet you again."

Merlin scuttled back as she stepped closer. He stepped back, hitting the main road. He thought of the carriage and wondered if there was any point in returning to it. Could he use it as a shield? Should he? The guards were still inside. "Morgause," he said, though he had no idea what to say to her. Tell her to leave him alone? Ask her where Morgana was, and whose side she was on? Demand she leave Arthur alone (useless as the demand would be)?

Before he could decide, she spoke again. "I've heard some interesting rumors. I was hoping you would do me the pleasure of verifying them."

Merlin lifted his chin. "And what would those rumors be?" he asked, even though he already knew. Maybe if he could get her going long enough, he could take her by surprise. Going, of course, on the hope that she didn't know about his magic. But the way she walked, as if a cat cornering its prey, and her smirk, as if a robin looking down on a worm – would someone look like that if they knew their prey could use magic?

"Oh, I'm sure you know. It does seem to explain why you're in a royal carriage in the middle of the night, bound and beset by bandits." She grinned. "Did your little prince take you to his bed? Daddy must not have been pleased. How does it feel to be thrown away like trash by the kingdom you nearly gave my sister's life to defend?"

Merlin took a deep breath. And another step back. "Arthur did not throw me aside."

"Oh?" She made a point of looking around as she removed her hands from beneath her cloak. She wore gloves, long black ones that traveled up her arms. In the deathly darkness, he thought he saw a flowing dress covering her body. He couldn't tell the color; it was too dark. But he thought it might have been a deep red or blue; it certainly wasn't a bright color. "Well then, where is he? Has he not chased after you? Brought you home?" She grinned down on him. With one dainty hand, she pulled off the fingers of her right glove. Slowly, tugging on the last finger, she pulled the long length of it free. Her hand was positively pale compared to the rest of her, darned in deep colors. That pale hand stretched and pointed toward him. "All alone. So sad."

Merlin prepared a shield, but without a word, she pushed. He felt her magic slam into him. He flew into the air, vertigo twisting him around before he landed hard and flat on his back. His shoulder blades burned where they hit the road. His legs nearly smacked into his forehead, still going while the top half had already landed, before he finally fell straight. He breathed hard as Morgause laughed. "Arthur's little pet. I suppose that explains your actions that day."

He and Arthur hadn't been together back then, but Merlin couldn't deny that he'd probably felt those feelings since even long before. He heaved himself up onto his elbows. Another hard blast of power shoved him back into the dirt. He gasped for breath as Morgause leaned over him. "I wonder," she said, her curls dancing down over his face, "how would you feel if I poisoned Arthur?"

Merlin pulled at his magic, struggled to raise his hand. His entire body felt pressed by a great weight. Then Morgause planted one heeled foot on his chest and dug it in. He gasped. "I would lie still if I were you." As Merlin tried to buck her off, she pulled the other glove off. As if his struggles were nothing. Merlin considered using his magic, but he hesitated. While he'd promised Arthur not to die, he also didn't want her to know. Of all people to know his secret, she was one of the worst. Right up there with Uther, actually.

But what did he have to hide? Uther had already banished him. Morgause was a threat to Arthur. Arthur, who Merlin couldn't protect every moment of every day anymore. It would be best to get rid of her before she could go after him and – as she said herself – poison him. Or worse.

Then he thought of Morgana, of Arthur's concern. Of the fact that no one but Uther knew for sure about his magic.

And then the guards from the carriage stumbled out, swords dragging along the dirt beside them. They didn't do more than look up before Morgause threw them back into the carriage. They slammed into the thing and flipped over its roof. Merlin snapped the magic holding him and wrenched one hand behind himself. Morgause turned to him, her eyes wide with surprise. Merlin arched his back, twisted his hips, and Morgause scowled and pressed harder with her foot for a moment before removing it and leaning down, arms outstretched, to redo the magic bindings. Merlin yanked his arm up from behind him and, his magic slowing time for him, thrust Arthur's dagger in her chest, just above and between her breasts.

Morgause stopped. She made a horrid, rending noise in the back of her throat.

Merlin let go of the weapon and scuttled out from beneath her. "Tell me where Morgana is," he said. He tried to keep his hands from shaking. The effort cost him control over his voice. "Tell me, and I'll try to heal you."

Morgause slowly gripped the hilt of the dagger. She looked down at it, her face slack, disbelieving. When she looked back up, there was something wicked glinting in her eyes. "I... will burn you," she said. And with a shriek and a gale of wind, she disappeared.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, and Merlin pulled, trying to escape, trying to turn and face the enemy. He yanked his magic to the fore, ready to hurl Morgause away.

"Enough! Calm yourself."

Merlin blinked at stared up, up into the eyes of one of the guards. The man's sword had been lost somewhere between the front of the carriage and the back, and one of his eyes was shut against the steady stream of blood slicing down it. Merlin found no malice in the man's one-eyed stare or the firm grip of his hand. "What? Are..." He swallowed and tried to stand. His knees shook. He looked the man over; he gripped Merlin with his left hand, and Merlin finally saw that his right was bent at an awkward angle. He cleared his throat. "You're hurt."

"The witch," the man said, and shrugged. His lips tugged down. "Get up; we must move before she returns."

Merlin nearly looked toward Gwaine, but he stopped. He didn't know if Gwaine was all right or not, but if he was, Merlin pointing out his presence could land the both of them in worse waterS. Like death. "Bandits," he said, but the man just pulled Merlin up. Merlin stumbled. His legs felt like jelly. For the first time in his life, he'd stabbed someone. He didn't even know if Morgause was alive or dead – if she was alive, was she going after Arthur? His heart froze at the thought, then pounded a hard, unsteady rhythm. He grabbed the guard's hand. "Arthur," he said. At the man's look, Merlin cleared his throat. "The prince," he amended. "He could be in danger. She – she threatened him. You have to go back."

The man snorted. "I have orders," he said, and though there seemed to be a new ounce of regret in that tone, there was no hesitation.

"I'll wait here with this man," Merlin said. "There's no point in me trying to return," he said at the guard's incredulous face. "I'll wait here with him – after I look at your arm. But Arthur could be in danger. That's more important than anything! You have to go to him! Tie me up if you have to. Stab me if you have to!" he said, thinking he would have to heal himself if the man actually chose to do so. "But you have to go to him and make sure he's safe!"

The guard frowned harder. He looked back toward the carriage, where his cohort had yet to sidle from. Merlin ripped off a piece of his shirt. The man turned back to him, not seeming to know whether to glower or stare. "Here," Merlin said. "I need something..." He looked around, finally spotting the sheathe of Arthur's dagger. "There!" He bent and picked the thing up. "Okay. This is going to hurt horribly, but I have to set the bone back." He made the man sit and grabbed his arm, right there in the middle of the main road in the middle of the night. He felt at the bone in the man's upper arm. Yes, it was definitely broken, and he was too terrified about what Morgause could be doing to Arthur in retaliation for Merlin stabbing her to worry about finesse or the guard's comfort. "Ready? One." And he yanked the bone back in place. In the guard's defense, he did little more than grunt and squeeze his eyes closed. If Merlin saw the glint of a tear in the corner of the man's eyes, he was too polite to point it out. "There," he said, and quickly placed the sheathe against the man's arm and wrapped it with the scrap from his shirt. He ripped another wide piece and wrapped it around the arm and the man's neck, getting uncomfortably close to the guard as he did. The man didn't so much as twitch.

Merlin sat back. "There. You're done. Now go!"

The guard frowned. "I can't just leave my post," he began, but Merlin cut him off.

"Tie me to a tree, or to the other guard. Stab me in the shoulder, break my legs, whatever you have to do! She could be attacking Arthur as we speak!"

The guard stood, and Merlin let the man loom over him. Anything that made the guard think he was weak and useless. Perhaps a useless endeavor, as the man had obviously caught him stabbing Morgause. Why else would he even be listening to anything Merlin had to say?

"You really love the prince, don't you?" the man asked his voice gruff.

He nodded, not caring who knew it anymore. It was too late for it to change anything, anyway. "Please. Do whatever you must with me. Just protect him."

The guard didn't seem fully convinced, but he grabbed Merlin's arms and yanked him up. Merlin let himself be manhandled back to the carriage, even though the thing was still an attack waiting to happen. The guard looked around, finally grabbing the curtains. Merlin just sat down on the door of the carriage as it lay uselessly on its side and watched, his chest burning. He could still feel Morgause's trace on him, and he was certain that meant she was still alive. If she'd gone after Arthur... if she was after him, there was no one by his side to protect him. What if he was in the dungeon, kept in holding to make sure he didn't run after Merlin? His muscles locked. "Check the dungeons," he said when the guard returned to him. The man gave him a funny look. "He might have tried to fight the king," he said, trying to explain. "He shouldn't – it's not going to help; he shouldn't do anything like that, but he might have because he's a clotpole and a prat but he's a loyal clotpole and prat." He felt his fingers shaking and didn't know if it was due to shock or fear. "Check the dungeons if you can't find him." He looked up as the man tied Merlin's hands together again with one curtain. The second tied him to the edge of the bench where a small railing of sorts sat along the edge of the seat. "Find him," he whispered.

"I will," the man said. "I will stop the witch if I must draw my last breath."

Merlin looked up. Thank goodness. Thank everything. This man, this one guard who the king had chosen for this venture, was loyal to the crown. He gave the man a big grin. "Thank you."

The man frowned again, but he nodded and hopped out of the carriage. Merlin heard him walk around to the other side of the carriage, heard him pick up something metal – his sword, no doubt. Then he heard the man cut one of the horses free and ride.

Hurry. Faster. Merlin pushed the man forward, used his magic heedlessly to help the horse run tirelessly, no longer caring if Morgause knew. It was too late if she did, no matter if she didn't.

And so he was left in the carriage, sitting on the door, wrists tied to the bench. It would be easy to pull them loose with magic if he must. So why did the man do such a horrible job of holding him down? It didn't matter. Merlin could pull free and run to Camelot, but what then? He might make it in time, if he grabbed a horse and ran back. And then what?

That didn't matter, either. With one small word, he unraveled the man's knots and hurried to the second horse. Then he stopped, turned to the second guard. The man was alive, but bleeding profusely. Merlin sacrificed the rest of his shirt to stop the man's bleeding. He didn't know many healing spells, and he wasn't good at them, anyway, but he tried. Then he ran to Gwaine and checked him, as well, infinitely glad the man had suffered little more than a goose egg on the back of his head. Merlin soothed his pain as best he could, but Gwaine didn't wake, even when Merlin shook him gently and called his name, and he just didn't have time for more.

He ran back to the horse and struggled to get on it bareback. The thing squealed and danced away, and he had to talk to it for an interminable minute before it finally accepted him onto its back. He pointed it back to Camelot and dug his feet into its sides. It galloped off, and with a few more words, he helped it find a greater store of stamina. Yet still, it felt like the horse moved too slowly, and Merlin knew without doubt that he would be too late, no matter what he did.