Arthur had no sense of feeling. From feeling ice cold and yet burning one moment ago, he could only feel numbness now, which was unshaken by the shock in his mind.
He wanted to collapse to his knees, to give his brain more room to think, but his legs were suddenly detached from his thoughts. He walked involuntarily towards the man who was on his knees, struggling to keep himself from succumbing to exhaustion. The battle had been so short, yet it had held such ferocity.
"Merlin?" he asked, feeling very afraid of his manservant at that moment in time.
"Arthur…" Merlin murmured, trying to maintain consciousness for a few more seconds. "Camelot… safe…"
Arthur had the distinct sensation that Merlin wasn't speaking to him directly, more like he was speaking a list to whoever had been talking to him. He doubted Merlin was aware of who had been addressing him.
For some reason, though, hearing Merlin's list made him feel much safer. It was the sense that something very dangerous had decided to side with him, for no reason other than it wanted to. Plus, Merlin had said his name first, then Camelot, which he was taking to mean that the… sorcerer was more concerned about his safety, than his own.
He then watched Merlin finally give in, and he crumpled to the ground in fatigue. A part of him wanted to walk up to Merlin and help him, somehow, but he realised that it was a very small part of him. Terror gripped him as he realised the truth.
Merlin was a sorcerer. He preformed magic. Magic was prohibited. This meant that Merlin had committed a crime, probably more times than he dared to think. And, what was worse, he was fairly certain that Merlin was fairly powerful in sorcery, simply by the fact that he had managed to withstand Nimueh's attacks and even drive her out of Camelot.
His father would be furious. And there were plenty of witnesses to claim that Merlin had used magic, though he had no idea why he would want to say anything else. He couldn't deny Merlin's actions, but he was frighteningly aware of what the punishment for practising magic was. And, though Merlin had performed some serious, and extremely dangerous, magic just now, he could stand the thought of Merlin being punished for this.
Suddenly, he noticed Gaius had rushed to Merlin's side. Shock entered his body, wondering if the physician knew who he was tending to.
"Gaius, step back," he managed to order, in a shaky voice.
"I would prefer that Merlin wakes in a more comforting environment," Gaius commented in a strong voice, his eyes showing a deep understanding.
Arthur felt his stomach jolt as he realised that Gaius knew, of course it would be incredulous if he didn't after that fight. But, what jolted him even more than Gaius knowing was the fact that Gaius didn't care, as if he'd always known.
Gaius didn't speak to him, but lifted Merlin's unconscious form off the ground. He was having difficulty and he turned to Arthur with expectant eyes. After all, he had shown that he could easily haul Merlin over his shoulder and walk to the physician's study from the Great Hall, and this was a considerably smaller distance.
But that had been before he knew what Merlin was. Now, it terrified him to go anywhere near his…friend. He wondered if friend was the right word for Merlin. Friends don't keep secrets, at least nothing this big, but maybe that was why Merlin hadn't told him.
And if he had, Arthur would have been left with no choice but to report the truth to his father. He was going to do that now, anyway.
Again, as if he had no control over his legs, he slowly joined Gaius. He was certain that there was no prince-like composure on his face, and he knew that his heartbeat was thundering in his ears, quickening and getting louder for every step he took.
He stiffly slung Merlin over his shoulder and followed Gaius back to the physician's study. Once there he lowered Merlin as carefully as he could onto the couch. With his task complete, Arthur forwent any dignity he had remaining as he fled from the room.
Gaius watched the prince understandingly. Although he was more tolerant to the thought of magic than his father, Arthur was shocked to learn that his manservant had been practising magic, without him knowing or suspecting.
He turned to his unconscious apprentice. He knew that this would be the end for the young man. Uther had prohibited magic, and anyone caught practising was sentenced to death. There had never been an exception… well, except one.
Uther had been fairly suspicious of Merlin when he had returned to the castle with the sphere. He had been close to accusing Merlin of using magic, and of starting the whole incident in the first place. It had been Merlin's lucky day that Gaius had been watching him closely, and had noticed Arthur's essence leaving his pocket.
Yes, Merlin had been very lucky that day. However, he would not be so lucky this time.
Arthur had run halfway across the castle grounds before he stopped, gasping for breath and with his chest screaming at him in protest. He pressed his back against the nearest wall and slid down it. He held his head below his knees as he panted for air.
He couldn't hide from this. He couldn't run forever, despite how tempting it was to try. He had to go back. He had to report this to his father, if someone hadn't done so already, if hadn't heard the battle himself.
Although he knew this, he made no attempt to stand and return to the castle. He didn't feel anything near ready to face his father with this. He didn't feel at all composed enough to raise his head; his hands were shaking as they gripped his shins tightly.
He was suddenly aware of a ripping sound. Somehow, he knew that it was someone trying to calm down and their breathing kept catching on the back of their throat. He raised his head to locate this distressed person, and was shocked when he did.
It was Gwen. She was kneeling not that far away from his, her head in her hands. Her eyes were probably closed. Her body was wracked with suppressed sobbing. The confrontation had scared her more than it had scared Arthur.
Feeling a small amount of normality and composure return to him, Arthur rose to his feet and walked over to distraught handmaiden. He knelt down and gently held her shoulders, maintaining his hold as she flinched in surprise. He looked into her eyes, watching surprise to give way to shame.
She was ashamed be caught crying. She tried to clear her throat, unsuccessfully, and then spoke in a voice several octaves higher than normal.
"Did you see him?" she whispered in a breaking voice.
He nodded, not knowing if his voice would be any stronger than hers. He watched her turn her head slightly to stare off into a memory.
"The way he landed," she continued, oblivious to Arthur's surprise. "He was so still. I thought… I thought…"
Arthur's mind reeled, thinking back to what she was talking about. The way Nimueh had thrown Merlin across the courtyard… it had been a sickening sight. And, the way he hadn't moved afterwards, it had all but scared the wits from Arthur.
"But then he moved!" Gwen went on. "It looked like every bone in his body was broken, but then he…" she trailed off.
Arthur said nothing. He didn't know what he could say. Gwen was finally catching up with everyone else, and he had to let her do this at her own pace.
"He used magic, didn't he?" she asked, but her tone was flat since she already knew the answer.
Arthur nodded his head again, wondering if he'd left his voice in the courtyard. He silently wondered if that was a good thing, he couldn't report the event to his father if he was mute.
Gwen blinked but was unfazed by Arthur's confirmation, but he reasoned that it would only take a while for the truth to sink in properly. She was still in shock from the ordeal.
"Where's Morgana?" he asked hoarsely.
Gwen suddenly snapped to attention. She looked around wildly, realising that her mistress was nowhere to be seen. The shock and confusion was starting to register in Gwen's face, and Arthur knew that he had no idea on how to help her any more.
He rose to his feet, still holding onto Gwen. She was a dead weight for a moment, before she sprang to her feet. She started walking, until Arthur pulled her back and turned her in the right direction. When he was satisfied that she wasn't going to collapse, he relinquished his secure grip, and walked by her side.
He felt furious with himself, cursing himself for being able to speak. But, he had been helping Gwen deal with the revelation. He hoped that his voice had crept into some tiny corner of his throat, and wouldn't come out when he faced father.
Merlin felt a sense of déjà vu as he stared into the rafters of the ceiling of Gaius' study. He could feel that he was lying on the couch, like he had done three weeks ago, after he had collapsed from returning Arthur to his body. He had landed on a sharp rock when he had been escaping Nimueh, breaking his skin and two of his ribs. His side was still tender from that.
He turned his head to look over to Gaius. The physician was sitting in his chair, frowning at the sorcerer, angry, disappointed, and very, very frightened. Merlin remembered the incident, and knew the cause for his mentor's disquiet.
"How bad is it?" he asked, though he had a very good idea on his own.
"Very," Gaius replied, his voice uncharacteristically flat. "Arthur has only just returned to the castle. He was guiding Gwen back to Morgana, who I've had to prescribe a calming tonic for."
Merlin wanted to know more than what Gaius had told, but knew that he had no right to ask. However, Gaius seemed to understand his desire.
"Arthur has yet to regain the use of his voice. It's quite a feat to render the prince speechless, but you've done it quite flawlessly. Uther is being surprisingly patient concerning this," Gaius' voice rose in surprise before returning monotone again. "I guess he knows that he can't rush Arthur on this, and he wants to hear his account."
"Gwen?" Merlin asked weakly.
"Gwen is going about her tasks, though she is distant. Everyone is waiting for her to understand all of this. And, judging by how she's acting, I think that might take a while. Unless, of course, you want to show your face?" Gaius shot Merlin a disbelieving look, to which he received a shake of Merlin's head.
"And Morgana?"
"The Lady Morgana has been surprisingly hysterical about this. As I said, I had to prescribe a calming tonic to her. I think she's finally quietened down, or she's just too far from us for me to hear her."
Merlin nodded. He now knew about the conditions of his friends, if they would call them his friends after this. Now, he had to ask the least pleasant question that he had to ask.
"I take it that I'm only alive because Uther is waiting for Arthur to regain his voice," he guessed, not wanting to ask a question. "Or he just wants me to be awake when he kills me."
"All the witnesses, apart from Arthur, Gwen and Morgana, have claimed that you did not start the battle, and that you were protecting Camelot, or at the very least, Arthur. That may have been a help, for you."
"Uther doesn't care if I was protecting Camelot or Arthur, I was using magic, and that's all he'll think about," he muttered harshly. "You got me off the hook last time Gaius, but no one will be able to help me this time."
Merlin swung his legs over to sit up, and, ignoring the woozy feeling as the blood rushed from his head, he walked to his room.
"And where do you think you're going?" Gaius demanded.
"Well if I'm going to die soon, I'd rather die in clean clothes," he answered curtly before closing his door.
He tore off his shirt and trousers, changing into something that was clean and comfortable. He shrugged his jacket on and tied his red bandana around his neck. Feeling sure that he was at least presentable, he left his room and found Gaius was standing in front of the door.
"Uther is waiting out there for you, Merlin," he explained. "There is no reason for you to do this."
"Uther won't wait forever. And, if I don't come out, he'll come in and drag me out," Merlin shrugged sadly.
Gaius knew that Merlin was right. There was no way he could reason with the young man, and so stepped aside. As Merlin passed him, the young sorcerer paused to squeeze his shoulder slightly. And then, he was gone.
Merlin stood tall to the king, his back straight and his head up. This, in itself, was a huge feat, especially since Uther was one drop short of unleashing his wrath on the young man in front of him. But, undaunted, Merlin maintained his air, even as he inclined his head slightly to acknowledge Uther's position above him.
"Merlin, you are charged with the use of magic, an act that is against the laws of Camelot. Do you deny these charges?" Uther demanded coldly.
"No, Sire," Merlin answered calmly, surprised at how calm he was.
"Take him away," Uther motioned to four guards around him.
Merlin stepped forward, his head bowed to show humility. The four guards surrounded him and started walking towards the jail. Merlin could see the awkwardness of the guards and knew that none of them wanted this job.
As he walked along the corridor, he noticed three figures ahead of him. All of them were strangely blank of emotion. But he didn't blame any of them. Considering what he'd done in front of them, he could see no reason why they'd want to talk to them.
Merlin's eyes fell on Gwen. She seemed lifeless, as if the most important piece of her was missing. And, though he knew that he was about to die, he felt the impulse to do something, anything to bring her out from her recluse.
As he passed them, he noticed the torch beside them, burning brightly. He had a sudden rush of inspiration, and thought of a perfect way to tell them all the truth about him to them. The question was: would he have enough time to tell them.
"Mai danio chwimia am 'm eiriau," he whispered.
He willing the fire to dance and was relieved to see the tongues leap high and sputter blue for a moment. He knew that everyone was watching the torch, and him.
"Arddangos 'm choffadwriaethau , 'm deimladau atyn," he spoke softly, his eyes focused on the flames so that they did not confuse his intentions.
Slowly, images flickered in red and orange tones. It was when he had met Arthur, tormenting some poor servant. His time in the stocks, where he had met Gwen, came up to view next. Arthur's face, looking over to him and smiling slightly, subconsciously, Gwen's smiling face, her eyes bright, and Morgana's defiant expression and her confident smile. He showed all of it.
Then, he felt that he had to sum up the truth with one final gesture. He knew that it wouldn't last; Uther would probably destroy the token once he walked past. But… he had to leave with no more secrets.
"Alwa 'r danio at nydd-dro a ffurfia 'm gwir," he whispered, and kept his eyes firmly on the fire. He couldn't allow himself to slip up at this point.
The fire twisted and turned, the red exploded in its ferocity while other parts turned green. The green flames thinned and snaked to join the red. The red flames flattened and articulately formed separate, small disks. Then, the disks condensed inwards, drawing upwards and curling around each other. Then, the flames quietened and became solid.
Merlin slowly reached out and plucked the object from the torch. Now that it had formed, he looked away from the torch and his creation, straight to Gwen. Hesitantly, he offered the rose to her.
Gwen stared the flower incredulously, before turning her surprised gaze to Merlin. She looked deep into his eyes, and found pure sincerity gazing back at her. Slowly, just he had done, she reached out and took the rose from him.
It was warm, like it had been a normal flower that had been placed by fire. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was perfect.
She felt something inside her move, like a pressure on her heart had suddenly shifted, and it now allowed her to feel again. The first thing she felt was appreciation for the rose in her hand, it was beautiful. Then, she felt pleasure as she realised that this thing of beauty was for her, and only for her. The shock, knowing how the rose had been created. A mixture of shock pleasure came from knowing who had made it: pleasure by knowing it was Merlin, and shock by knowing he had used magic.
From that finally realisation, she felt immense fear. Merlin had used magic, and the use of magic was prohibited, punishable by death. For some reason, she was not afraid of Merlin using magic… maybe that would come later.
Merlin didn't speak anymore, but walked past Gwen and Morgana. He took several steps before turning his head to Arthur's shocked face.
He felt a small amount of pride. He had brought them all some form of an emotional response, by showing them his truth. Gwen had been interesting to observe, but he was glad to see the lights inside her swirling with emotion again. Morgana had been filled with shock, either by seeing magic again, or by seeing what Merlin had shown.
Arthur, however, the light within him was shining unusually. Merlin had only seen it once before, by accident, when he had watched a mother crying over her child, who had died during the night. He saw heartbreak, but he could not place the reason.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the prince as he walked past.
Arthur didn't answer. He couldn't answer, even if he did have the use of his voice. He had no idea what he would have said, after seeing that.
He had never understood Merlin, he realised. He had never seen the emotions towards them, and fearfully wondered if he simply hadn't been paying attention.
And then Merlin had formed that rose for Gwen. It was such an effortless gesture, with no hidden meaning. The effect it had, though, had been anything but straightforward. However, Arthur didn't feel any negativity towards the act, but instead felt… he didn't know how it made him feel.
Lastly, when Merlin walked away, walking to the castle jail and to his ultimate fate, he had felt his heart break in despair. He knew what would happen and, after seeing the true Merlin, the Merlin who had nothing to hide, he swore that this was nothing but injustice.
"Give that to me," Uther demanded, bring Arthur out from his thoughts.
Gwen looked down at the flower, pitifully sad. It was obvious that she didn't want to let it out of sight, but she sagged her shoulders in resignation. She reluctantly handed the rose over to Uther.
Uther, frowning, crushed the flower in his gloved hand, since there was no way he'd touch such a thing with his bare hands. He crushed it as totally as he could, reminding Arthur of when his father had done the exact same thing to punish him for leaving the castle to find the morteas flower that would cure Merlin, who had been poisoned at the time.
Disgustedly, Uther threw the flower back into the fire that it had been formed from. He then stalked away, ignoring the outraged expressions of his son and ward and the forlorn face of his ward's handmaiden.
Arthur, after glaring at his father's retreating back, walked up to Gwen. He noticed that she was staring at the fire, tears streaming down her face. He looked to Morgana, who had already laid her arm across the poor girl's shoulders. He saw how mad she was at Uther as well.
He then turned his attention to the torch. Merlin had done nothing wrong by making that tiny gift, that simple token of affection, he reasoned. Arthur wished that somehow he could reach into the fire and take the rose out, as perfectly as it had been.
Then, as if the fire knew he request, the flames lifted the mutilated flower to the top, like it would have done if the fire was water. He cautiously reached out, not knowing if what he was doing was right, but he couldn't stand Gwen's depressed face. He felt his fingers grip the stem with ease and when he pulled the rose out, he saw that the flower had returned to its previous condition.
Its petals were fresh and perfectly curled around one another, and the stem was firm and straight. It was the most perfect rose, if not the most perfect flower, Arthur had ever seen. He wasn't one for such trivial objects, but he had to admit its beauty was breathtaking.
He then turned and handed the rose back to Gwen. He saw her face light up in surprise and then she gazed at him with gratitude. He had never seen such a small token mean so much to one person. It made him smile.
His eyes finally left the handmaiden and wondered down the corridor. Merlin had left a while ago, and was probably in a cell by now. He felt his heart tearing again at the thought of Merlin standing on the executioner's block.
"Merlin…" he whispered.