Arthur watched Merlin very closely over the next few weeks. At first, this was to determine whether he actually had conjoured the whirlwind. Arthur was becoming more and more used to the idea that Merlin was a sorcerer, but somehow couldn't imagine the possibility of turning him over to his death. He was, by 2 months after their return from Ealdor, convinced that his friendship with Merlin outweighed duty to his father or to the immoral, outdated laws of the land.
Not that he had any proof that Merlin even had magic. He had not seen so much as a glimmer of gold in those eyes, but the increased observation had led him to notice how blue those eyes actually were. Arthur had taken to watching Merlin muck out his horse, to see whether he did it by magic. Of course, this plan had the slight problem that with Arthur standing there in chainmail pointing out bits which he'd missed, Merlin was unlikely to use magic unless to turn round and kill his master. If looks could kill, not even Nimueh could have raised him after some of Merlin's current facial expressions. It did, however, give Arthur a wonderful view as Merlin bent down over the broom...
Arthur could not actually believe he'd thought that. Since when had he started looking at Merlin lustfully? When had he first noticed that those lips were gorgeously pink, that hair always adorably tousled....
STOP! Arthur returned to the question of magic. Though he had not seen Merlin actually do any since Ealdor, the chores which he didn't watch over seemed to get done in a far shorter time than would actually take to complete them. Cleaning the armour, for example. As muddy, scratched and bashed as Arthur managed to get his armour, Merlin would always have it pristine and shiny within half an hour.
The prince was still waiting for Merlin to tell him. Their friendship was close: he had gone to help in Ealdor hadn't he? He still wasn't sure why he'd done that, but he'd just felt that Merlin needed him, so he was there. They had become even closer since, and Arthur was surprised to find that he missed his unruly manservant when he wasn't around. They had become so close that Arthur often used Merlin as a sounding board for his wilder ideas, and he had begun to seek his manservant out for no other reason than that he wanted to talk to him. They spoke for hours about random subjects, from how long Gwen and Morgana had been sleeping together (Arthur thought 3 months, Merlin was closer to the truth on 9), to the ideal length of a sword (this was mainly Arthur lecturing on the difference between 3 ft and 3ft 1 inch).
But they had not strayed onto the topic of magic, both avoiding it strenuously. Still, Arthur thought they were close enough that Merlin really should tell him. Didn't he trust him?
But Merlin said nothing.
Arthur came to a decision, when he got tired of waiting. If Merlin wasn't going to tell him, then he'd have to tell Merlin.