Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long on this. I was suffering from writer's block, trying to connect the first half of this story to the other half.
If you're like me, you may want a tissue for this chapter.
Merlin sat with his back pressed against the wall at the end of the cell. His wrists were encased by two heavy manacles, and they were already cutting into his skin. He was resting his arms on his knees and wondering how long he'd be stuck in the cell.
He was surprising himself by imagining how he was going to die. Gwen, when she'd been falsely charged with performing magic, was due to die by burning on a pyre. When Merlin had come to Camelot, he had seen a man accused with sorcery being beheaded. There were only so many ways for a person to die, after all.
What surprised Merlin most was the fact that none of this was bothering him. But, he reasoned that he had no need to fear it, because he knew it was coming.
"I would have thought that you'd be trying to escape," Morgana's voice reached his ears.
Merlin blinked and looked to the lady of court. Morgana was nervous, either by speaking to him, or by giving him any ideas. Merlin shrugged disinterestedly.
"What's the point? I've used magic, and I will pay the price for it," he stated simply.
"Have you ever tried not using magic?" Morgana asked meekly, like a child afraid of asking a stupid question.
"I can't," Merlin replied kindly. "Magic is a part of me, like being a prince is a part of Arthur. Being a lady of the court is a part of you," he explained.
Comprehension dawned on Morgana's face, and sadness filled her. Merlin quickly amended his words.
"Don't be sad, milady. As long as Arthur lives, I don't care what happens to me."
"What?!" she demanded, her sadness turning to anger. "How can you say that?! How can you be so lenient on your own life?! Don't get me wrong, I'd be sad if Arthur was ever killed, but you… You. Don't. Care?"
"It's Arthur's destiny to rule Camelot, and it's my destiny to ensure that," Merlin shrugged, knowing that he'd given the wrong impression.
"You're just doing this… for destiny?" she snorted, she didn't believe the excuse.
"What could Arthur possibly want with a sorcerer?" Merlin asked sadly. "What could he want with a servant who doesn't tell him the truth, or hides it from him? Arthur doesn't need me… he never did."
Arthur, who had been coming down to… see Merlin, had stopped at the entrance, when he heard Morgana and Merlin conversation. He remembered from three weeks ago, when he had been enchanted, that he had heard Merlin calling himself 'just his servant'. Now, now that he had shown everyone the truth, hearing Merlin say that Arthur didn't need him… it hurt.
He couldn't forget what Merlin had done, but he had found that there was nothing for him to forgive. Merlin had been afraid of Nimueh's arrival for three weeks, probably afraid of this very outcome.
He had proven to be a good servant, but it was more than that. Merlin had proven to be a devoted friend, probably more than Arthur deserved. Arthur corrected that thought: Merlin was more of a friend than Arthur deserved, a hell of a lot more.
"Even if your father hadn't ordered me to, I still would have been at your side," Merlin had promised him.
Yes, Arthur didn't deserve a friend like that.
He could still hear Merlin and Morgana talking, but he couldn't decipher their words, nor did he want to. He turned and left the jail, not caring that his footsteps reverberated around him.
Morgana turned to the entrance, hearing someone making a speedy departure. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she turned back to the captive sorcerer.
"I think that was Arthur," she stated.
Merlin looked towards the entrance, his eyes narrowed and his brow creased slightly in concentration. His eyes followed something that Morgana couldn't see, and then he turned back to her.
"It was," he confirmed.
"I guess I'd better go and speak to him. He probably wanted to… see you."
"I take it he's still not talking," Merlin guessed.
Morgana didn't answer him. She smiled faintly to him before turning and walking out, leaving the sorcerer only with his thoughts.
Again, Arthur had no idea where he was going. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. And, he mildly wondered where his unplanned wondering would take him this time. He didn't pause or question his destination, he'd find out sooner or later.
Finally, Arthur stopped. He had to, well… if he didn't want to tumble down a cliff, he had to stop. It took Arthur a moment to realise where he was, and the torch in his hand wasn't as much of a clue as he had been hoping. Then, a large shape dropped onto an outcrop in the cavern before him.
"Welcome, young prince," the booming figure greeted, its golden eyes trained on Arthur mercilessly. "Do you know who I am?"
Arthur nodded. Then he noticed that the figure probably couldn't see the gesture. Right now, he needed his voice.
"Yes," he croaked. "You're the Great Dragon, the last of the dragons… my father killed all of your kind, except you…" he trailed off, unsure as to why he was speaking, or why he was saying something that would probably anger the beast.
"That is correct, and as you can hear, you can speak, when need calls for it," the dragon smiled at him, showing off a large jaw full of teeth.
Arthur swallowed hard. He cursed himself for following his feet. He would die for being an idiot, and this was probably going to be painful.
"Merlin must not die," the dragon commanded, shaking Arthur in surprise.
"What?"
"You must not allow your father, the king, to end his life. You need him, just like he needs you. You are two sides of the same coin, prince of Camelot," the dragon explained.
"But, Merlin is a sorcerer," Arthur protested weakly, since he didn't want Merlin to die. "Sorcery is prohibited in Camelot, and the penalty is death."
Suddenly, the dragon shook and raised its head. It roared so loudly that Arthur had to cover his ears and stalactites fell from the roof of the cavern. It lowered its head to glower at the quivering prince.
"Merlin is no sorcerer, nor will he ever be. Merlin is a warlock," the dragon clarified.
"I don't understand," Arthur whimpered, terrified of this overpowering creature. He'd never been this terrified of anything before, not even his father.
"A sorcerer cares only of themselves, nothing of others," the dragon explained, its voice seething.
"Merlin isn't like that," Arthur stated.
"That is why he is a warlock," the dragon smiled slightly, as if pleased that Arthur was on the same page of understanding as him.
"And how could I get my father to believe that?" Arthur queried, doubtful that the dragon had an answer.
"You won't," was the reply. "But, you must try, or Merlin will die."
"And why would I want to save him? Not that I don't," he stuttered.
"Because if you do not, Camelot will fall and everyone will die. Do you want this?" the dragon asked calmly, though its anger was quite clear.
"No," Arthur shook his head. "But if what I say won't matter, then why should I bother?"
"If that is your choice, I will not dissuade you."
Then the dragon extended its huge wings and took off. In its wake, it left a very confused Arthur Pendragon.
As Arthur walked slowly up the stairs, he went over the conversation in his mind. The dragon had called Merlin a warlock, saying that he wasn't nor would he ever be a sorcerer. Arthur reasoned that there was some reason for the differentiation.
And then, it came to him.
As Arthur thought the thought through, he felt proud of himself and jogged to the Great Hall. He felt that he was now ready to deliver his report. As he reached the doors, he heard someone, two people speaking. He instantly identified them as his father and Morgana.
Intrigued, he paused to listen.
"You can't do this!" Morgana protested. "Merlin has done nothing wrong!"
"He used sorcery, Morgana! And I saw those spells long ago. I know how experienced a sorcerer must be to cast those enchantments," Uther retorted.
"He saved Arthur!" Morgana continued to argue. "He saved Camelot and everyone in it, even the Knights of Camelot!"
"Enough!" Uther shouted at his ward. "He has committed to sorcery. Therefore, he will be put to death, just like all others that came to plague Camelot before him."
"Plague?!" Morgana repeated, incredulously. "Merlin has done nothing to jeopardise Camelot. We don't know how many times he's saved this kingdom, or any of us for that matter!"
"This discussion is closed, Morgana. I will hear no more about it!"
There was a pause, and Arthur wondered if perhaps they had left the room. Then, he heard more sounds, it almost sounded like crying.
"Merlin saved Camelot from a sorceress that you failed to kill more than twenty years ago," Morgana stated, her voice quivering, with suppressed rage. "And as a reward for his heroism… you're going to kill him?"
Arthur felt that this was his time to step in and, finally, speak his piece. He pushed both doors opened, ignoring the outraged face on his father's face at the intrusion which almost instantly turned to surprise.
"Forgive the intrusion, Milord," Arthur apologised, his voice ringing clear. "I am ready to deliver my report."
Uther smiled, satisfied with Arthur's announcement, and obviously pleased that his on was speaking again. He nodded in approval, and waited.
"I apologise for not reporting sooner, there was much to think about and sort out in my mind," Arthur explained, feeling slightly unnerved by his father's patient expression.
Uther smiled understandingly and nodded, accepting his son's explanation, and encouraging him to speak. He watched as Arthur cleared his throat and inhaled deeply.
"This morning, the sorceress, Nimueh entered Camelot. She attacked us without provocation… she attacked Merlin. I called the Knights of Camelot to me, to oppose the sorceress. We never had a chance to advance. From behind me, Merlin called for us to move aside. He stepped forward and engaged her on his own. The confrontation was brief, and the sorceress was expelled from Camelot," Arthur paused, knowing that his father would want to ask questions.
"And how did Merlin confront the sorceress?" Uther asked, his voice hard and expectant.
"With magic," Arthur replied factually.
He saw Morgana close her eyes in exasperation, disappointed with Arthur. His father, on the other hand, seemed proud. He was proud that Arthur was finally seeing his way, his opinion to magic.
"However," he continued. "I do not think Merlin should be punished for his actions."
Comprehension was a void on Uther's face, and was instead replaced with disbelief. Morgana was stunned, but awe was the main emotion on her face. As he observed them, Arthur wondered how the heck he'd gotten so good at reading people's expressions.
"What was that?" Uther demanded.
"Merlin should not be punished for what he did," Arthur repeated.
"You said it yourself, Arthur. Merlin has been practising sorcery, and the penalty for such is death."
"Yes, Father, I do not deny you. Sorcery is evil and all those practising it should be put to death," Arthur agreed with his father.
"Arthur!" Morgana protested, outraged.
"But Merlin does not practise sorcery. He practises magic," Arthur clarified, speaking every word with thought and care. "He is not a sorcerer, he is a warlock."
A stunned silence echoed in the room. As the seconds ticked away, Arthur could almost see his father's mind working to understand his comments. However, comprehension did not dawn on his father's face, only anger.
"Magic is sorcery," Uther stated, deathly calm. "A warlock is the same as a sorcerer."
"I do not deny that they are quite similar, Milord, but there are subtle differences," Arthur pressed, surprised at how calm the tone that he was maintaining was. "And it is those differences that are my evidence that Merlin should not be put to death."
Morgana looked like she wanted to say something. But, for once, she either had nothing to say or she knew that she should keep her mouth shut. Her face shone with admiration for Arthur's well thought out report.
If only she knew that he was playing his cards as he got them.
"You have often told me that anyone engrossed in sorcery thinks inwards, only about themselves. Merlin is not like that. Those who practise sorcery flaunt their powers every chance they have. Merlin doesn't do that. Those who practise sorcery care only about themselves, and would only save someone if they held some strategic importance. Merlin risked his life to save everyone in Camelot. He is not a sorcerer."
Uther looked at his son coolly, judging. He jutted his chin out slightly, giving an extreme impression of arrogance that Arthur had never seen before.
Suddenly, the prince had a very bad feeling that his attempt to persuade his father was about to go pear-shaped. And the feeling wasn't proven wrong.
"Of course… you have proven to be more than susceptible to the effects of sorcery," Uther mentioned, his voice dangerously calm.
Arthur felt the colour drain from his face, and it was replaced by burning indignation. He could not believe that his father had stooped so low, to discredit his words by suggesting that he was under the influence of a spell. He could not believe his ears.
Apparently, neither could Morgana.
"You have both spent much time around him," Uther continued. "There's no telling what he could have cast on either of you. There are a many number of spells that could confound a mind concerning certain topics."
"Will you listen to yourself?" Morgana demanded. "You're using anything to lessen our opinions, just so you can kill Merlin!"
"It is my task to protect all in Camelot from those who practice sorcery," Uther snapped. "And I cannot trust the opinions of any who might have been compromised."
"Merlin saved my life," Arthur reminded. "He's probably saved my life more times than I dare count!"
"Thank you for your report, Arthur. But, I have made my decision," Uther stated sternly.
Arthur seethed as he watched his father turn around and start walking out of the room. Uther walked three paces before Arthur' temper broke.
"You're murdering an innocent man!" Arthur shouted to his father, the outrage he had been moderating had flown into an inferno of anger.
Uther slowed and came to a halt. He turned his torso, maintaining his feet's stance. He looked into Arthur's furious expression, unfazed by his son.
"We'll see," he promised.
Then, Uther turned back round and walked out of the room. In his wake, he left two very livid youths glaring at his retreating back. He did not see his son shaking uncontrollably.
When he left the room, the pair regained their voices.
"Arthur, we can't let him do this!" Morgana protested.
"We won't," Arthur announced. "Come with me."
He turned round abruptly and rushed out of the Great Hall. Morgana was promptly on his heels, following him, though she had no idea where they were destined. However, she was not surprised to find them barging into Gaius' study.
"Gaius," Arthur addressed the physician with a commanding tone. "I want to know the truth, and you will not lie to me."
Gaius lowered his shoulders slightly as he understood the meaning of Arthur's words. He took a deep breath and began.
"He has been able to perform magic since before he came to Camelot," Gaius explained. "He was sent here so I could watch over him and be a mentor to him, so that he could learn how to use his gifts properly."
"He's always been able to use magic?" Morgana asked, frowning slightly.
Gaius nodded sadly. He knew the impossibility of lying to the pair in front of him, and for some reason, was glad to finally be able to explain Merlin's position to someone.
"It was only recently that he learnt how to channel his magical talents into something other than encouraging or preventing movement in objects."
"Wait a minute– did you say 'encourage movement'?" Arthur asked, suddenly remembering an event close to when he'd first met Merlin.
"You remember the brawl, Sire?" Gaius asked with a coy smile on his face, watching with interest as Arthur's face turned several different colours.
Arthur remembered that brawl. It had been the most humiliating fight of his life. He probably almost killed Merlin that day, swinging the flail round as he had. Things kept on getting in his way, he had been so unobservant that day, so focused on causing grievous, bodily harm to the young man who had had the stupidity to stand up to the Prince of Camelot.
He had said that day that there was something different about Merlin, but he wasn't able to identify what it was at the time that had given him that strange feeling. Now he knew why.
"How did he learn?" Arthur asked, rather than admit to remembering that fight.
"I… gave him a book, which taught him all the spells he knows," Gaius admitted reluctantly.
"Where is this book?" Arthur pressed, not caring about the story behind it.
"It would be in his room, though I have no idea where it could be," Gaius replied as Arthur charged into Merlin's room.
Arthur frantically tossed all of Merlin's belongings about, searching for the book. He was sure that he had searched the room twice, before he noticed that floorboard he had just stepped on had squeaked. He incredulously thought that Merlin couldn't have hidden it in such an obvious spot.
And yet, after pulling away two loose floorboards, there it was: Merlin's spell book. It was a large, heavy book, bound with a worn, leather cover. It was amazing for Arthur to think of what could be in this book that was in his hands.
He shook his head and, as he did, caught sight of a cloak and bag. Frowning slightly, he stood up and examined the two items. The cloak would be very good for hiding someone and the bag…
Arthur felt his stomach drop as he analysed the contents of the bag. There was a blanket, two skins of water and three days worth of food and probably most of Merlin's wages in there.
He's been planning this for some time. No, Arthur corrected himself. He's been prepared for this. He knew that he couldn't keep his secret quiet for much longer.
Arthur ignored the sad feeling that was creeping into the back of his mind and wrapped the cloak and bag into a tight bundle, tucking it under his arm. He strode out of Merlin's room and, after a brief nod to Gaius, turned to Morgana.
"Let's go," he ordered.
"Wait, what are we doing?" Morgana insisted, although she had a pretty good idea of the answer.
"Isn't it obvious?" Arthur chided her. "We're busting Merlin out. He'll be gone from Albion by dawn."
The light from the torches flickered into the cell; the sun had set more than an hour ago. It made Merlin's face seem gaunter and older than it should be. The flame-light glistened on the cold, iron manacles and was reflected off the deep blue eyes of the warlock. It cast unnatural looking shadows across the floor.
Merlin's eyes watched a tiny shadow scurry across the flagstones, nibbling at the straw that covered his cell. Every so often, the tiny creature would raise itself and sniff the air, its tail swishing about to keep it balanced.
It was such a fascination, to watch a living creature made entirely of silver light. But, Merlin argued that there is neither good nor evil in something as simple as a mouse. It wasn't a surprise that the mangy, orange tabby was also made purely of silver light. He watched them with mild interest, as the cat approached its unsuspecting prey. Soon enough, the cat was within pouncing distance.
"Gollwng 'm arddyrnau chan 'n hwy bandau," Merlin muttered.
The manacles harmlessly unlocked themselves and fell to the ground as Merlin stood up. He quickly scooped up the tiny rodent and glared at the cat.
"Go on, Shoo!" he shouted at the cat.
The cat, terrified by Merlin's abrupt display, hissed at the warlock and fled the dungeon. It raced past a young maiden that was making her way downstairs. The woman stopped before continuing cautiously. Just before she came into sight of the cell, she could hear someone talking and she stopped and listened. As she listened, she toyed absentmindedly at the perfect flower in her hand.
"You've got to be more careful," Merlin chided. "If you don't look out for yourself, then you'll end up as some cat's dinner."
The maiden smiled as she heard quiet squeaking. Talking to a mouse was something that she could picture Merlin doing. She cautiously entered the cell room and saw Merlin had his back to her.
Merlin was facing the back wall, his hand outstretched to the window. A tiny creature nimbly climbed off his hand and onto the sill. When he was happy that the mouse wasn't going to fall, Merlin lowered his hand.
"Now, you go and stay out of the dungeons. Unlike me, you don't have a reason to be here," he stated.
"I don't know," the young lady disagreed. "I can't think of a reason why you're in here."
Merlin twisted round to look at the young lady who had addressed him. He grinned eagerly at her, watching with pleasure at the swirl of magic and emotion inside her. He looked down to check his footing before stepping off the bed. He walked to the front of the cell, still smiling.
"Gwen," he greeted her.
"It's good to see you Merlin," Gwen smiled at him. "Not– not that it's good to see you in a cell," she hastily added. "It's just… good to see you."
"Yeah," Merlin agreed. "I was hoping to see you before… you know."
"I can't believe that the king's really going to this," she murmured sadly. "You saved so many people and he's going to…" she trailed off, unwilling to say any more and fighting back the tears.
"I broke the laws, Gwen," Merlin shrugged sadly. "This was going to happen sooner or later."
"But you haven't hurt anybody," she protested, tears leaking from her eyes.
"I nearly hurt you," Merlin admitted, shamefaced. "When the water was poisoned, and your father was sick… I…"
"It was you?!" Gwen's eyes widened in surprise. "You saved him?"
"And you were almost burned for sorcery that you never did. My actions almost killed you!" Merlin stared her guilt-ridden.
"But I'm still here," she reminded him. "And so is everyone else in Camelot, because of you."
"Uther won't be happy to hear that," Merlin noted.
The pair was silent for a moment, contemplating. Gwen watched Merlin as he looked at her. She felt cold as he did so, remembering that this was a relatively new look that she had received from him, along with everyone else.
"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked, trying not to sound irritated.
"Like what?" Merlin frowned.
"It's like you're looking through me, as if I'm not even there," she clarified, feeling miffed at the annoyed tone in her voice. "You look at everyone that way nowadays."
Merlin blinked in surprise. It was clear that he hadn't realised that he was looking through people, instead of at them. He lowered his eyes as he tried to think.
"I didn't… I didn't know. I didn't realise that I looked at people like that," he admitted, returning his gaze to Gwen, trying desperately to look at her, and failing miserably.
"How can you not know how you're looking at people?" Gwen asked.
"I guess… I guess it's because I don't see people the way I used to. I see a lot more than just a person's face," he explained.
"I don't understand," Gwen frowned, shaking her head.
"If only you could see what I see," Merlin stated wistfully. "You have no idea what everything is really like," he assured, looking to her, his eyes softening. "You have no idea… how beautiful you really are."
It was Gwen's turn to blink in surprise. She didn't know what she had been expecting him to say, but that certainly wasn't it.
"Gold and silver light, that's all you are," he told her adoringly. "No evil, red taint, just… gold and silver swirling around like snow caught in a breeze," he smiled slightly. "It's breathtaking just to see you. You're beautiful."
Gwen felt her stomach flip as she realised what he was saying. It wasn't that he was looking through her; he was looking inside her, seeing her for what she truly was. And what's more, he liked what she was inside. 'Gold and silver' he had said, 'no evil, red taint', he said, 'snow caught in a breeze' he'd described her as. She was astonished to know that this was what she really looked like: pure.
"And what about everyone else?" she asked breathlessly.
"Everyone is unique," he explained. "Everyone has some amount of gold and red in them, and everyone has silver."
"Prince Arthur and the Lady Morgana?" she asked curiously.
"Arthur shines as gold as you do, though he manages to hide it, sometimes. It depends on who he's around; you, me or Morgana, he's gold from head to toe; with his friends, the Knights of Camelot, he turns silver," Merlin described.
"And the Lady Morgana?" Gwen asked again.
"I… don't know how to explain her. Don't get me wrong; she's as gold as you or Arthur, but she seems… I don't know, a little brighter than you two. I don't know why though," he frowned thoughtfully.
Gwen said nothing to disrupt his musing. She was far too fascinated by what he'd just described to her. She, Arthur and Morgana were full of gold and silver, whatever that meant. All she knew was that these were colours that Merlin seemed to like, and the fact that she was filled with it made her feel very happy. Ecstatic, she noticed Merlin smile.
"I'm glad that you're happy," he remarked simply. "You were too sad when you came in."
"You know how I'm feeling?" Gwen asked, surprised.
"It's the way all the light changes when you feel differently. It… moves in a different pattern, at a different speed."
Gwen found herself trying to envisage what Merlin was describing. The idea that everyone was full of swirling gold and silver light… it sounded magnificent. She tried to imagine what Merlin would look like, positive that he would be filled with gold light, since gold seemed to be great importance to him.
"I bet it's beautiful to see the world like that," she whispered.
"It not always so beautiful," he replied. "There are some people who are filled with much red light, and some have no gold in them at all. I feel sick when I look at those people."
It was hard for Gwen to imagine a person with no gold light, filled with nothing but a sickly red light. Somehow, she knew that it meant that there was no good in those people.
She felt the overwhelming desire to know more, to understand more of Merlin's world, the nature of the life he led. Then, she realised that she could never know enough. She would always want to know more about him, and there was a whole new side of him for her to acquaint herself with.
It was a side of him that she would never know. Desolation filled up inside her, and now she knew that Merlin would see the change immediately. She thought desperately on how she could explain her sorrow to him.
"There's so much that I want to know, Merlin," she explained to his worried face. "I want to know so much about you, and… and…" she couldn't stop the tears for long, and she was struggling to keep her breathing even. "I'll never know. The king is going to take you away from me and I'll never know what everything is like for you. Now that I know that you–" she cut herself off, too racked with sobbing that she couldn't speak.
"Don't cry, Gwen!" Merlin begged her. "Please, don't cry because of me."
Merlin moved to stand right in front of her, sticking one his hands through the bars. He felt wretched as she flung herself forwards to cling onto his outstretched hand. He could feel her pressing her face into his palm, her eyes tightly shut as she tried in vain to stop herself from crying. He pulled his hand closer to the bars, and she followed blindly, so that he could wrap his other arm around her, holding her as close as he could.
"Please, please don't cry, Gwen," he whispered desperately. "Please don't cry."
However, Gwen continued to sob into his hand. With nothing else to do, he rested his cheek lightly on the top of her head and slowly rubbed her back, comfortingly, with his free hand. He didn't know how long it would take for Gwen to calm down, and he prayed that it wouldn't be long.
A sudden flurry of footsteps instantly caught his attention. He stiffened at the sound, fearing who it was. His reactions forced Gwen to quieten, as she also looked around to see who was coming. They both knew that they should move away, but were frozen by the sounds.
Then Arthur came bundling into the room, causing the pair to separate like a spring, jumping back about three feet each. It was quickly noticed that he hadn't seen their close moment, as he was too busy trying to catch his breath, his brow glistening with sweat. Merlin found himself reasoning that Arthur had probably run all the way to the cell.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked tentatively.
Arthur stared at him, still struggling for breath, when Morgana joined them. She was instantly the centre of attention for one simple reason. She had keys.
Arthur took them from her without a word and moved to the door of Merlin's cell. He unlocked the door and pulled it open. He looked at Merlin before drawing in a deep breath, which seemed to steady him for a moment.
"Let's go," he ordered. "We're getting you out."
"What?" Merlin asked, ignoring Gwen's gasp of surprise and joy.
"My father isn't going to kill you, Merlin," Arthur stated sternly. "I won't let him."
"Arthur, you can't be serious?!" Merlin exclaimed, wondering how long ago Arthur had regained the ability to speak.
"I'm dead serious. Now let's go!" he barked the order at Merlin, confusion creeping in when Merlin started shaking his head.
"No, Arthur I can't! You can't risk yourself like this!" Merlin protested.
"I don't care about risking myself!" Arthur all but shouted at him. "Merlin, you are leaving Camelot tonight even if I have to knock you out and carry you myself!"
The two men glared at each other, both daring the other to admit defeat. But they had known each other for quite some time now, and they both knew how stubborn the other was. Finally, it was Merlin's eyes that softened, and he shook his head.
"Alright, fine," he conceded.
Arthur handed him the bundle and stepped back, a triumphant look on his face. However, when Merlin stepped out of the cell and followed him, Morgana and Gwen out of dungeon and out of Camelot, saying nothing… it made Arthur feel more than a little suspicious,
He knew that Merlin wouldn't go down like this without a fight. He knew that something was wrong, but he could figure out what it was. And, whatever it was, it frightened him slightly.
But he didn't complain. Soon, the four of them were speeding past the forests of Albion. After they crossed over a river, Arthur brought them to a halt. He told Merlin to get down from Arthur's horse, since the two of them had been riding together. Merlin did as he was told and watched Arthur with expectant eyes.
"There's enough food and water in that bag to last for three days," Arthur informed him. "There's also a sleeping blanket, your wages and your book."
Merlin nodded to him without indication of a comment.
"There's a town not two day's walk from here," Arthur nodded in the general direction. "Just keep heading north."
Merlin still didn't say anything, simply watching Arthur as he shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.
"Never return to Albion, Merlin," Arthur requested sincerely, sadness in his voice. "Never come back to Camelot."
With nothing else to say, he turned his horse around and sent it speeding back the way they had come. Morgana spoke a brief goodbye before following Arthur. Gwen made to follow them, before turning her horse round look at Merlin, standing on the river bank. Tears ran down her face as she saw how alone he was going to be.
"Goodbye, Merlin," she whispered.
Then she sped back down the road to Camelot. The cold air bit at her face as she rode, clawing the tears from her eyes. Her sobbing was stolen by the wind as it howled in her ears. She could swear that it was screaming at her, telling her that she had made a mistake.
But still, she rode on. Soon, not long after the peak of dawn, Camelot came into view, sparkling in the day's new sunlight. Never before had it seemed so disheartening to behold it, and Gwen could feel the tears, which had run dry in the night, begin to fall again.
For she knew, just like Morgana, just like Arthur, she was coming home to a place that no longer felt like home. It was missing one key piece, and that piece… was Merlin.