Thank you so much for all the reviews and feedback for 'If I could turn back time.' Lots of you wanted a continuation and to read about Arthur's response – so here you are!

Caldera32 once again came up trumps and was a wonderful beta.

This is now a three part story. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 2 Doubts and Confusion

Nothing made sense anymore. His world had turned on its axis and would never be the same. Every time he closed his eyes he relived the events that had changed things forever:

Outnumbered by enemy soldiers and surrounded on all sides Arthur fought valiantly for his kingdom and his life, but it was all slipping away - he was losing. Suddenly the sky lit up and the advancing army scattered. The king turned to see the sorcerer who had murdered his father brandishing a staff and standing astride the cliffs of Camlann. All hope drained from his heart - it was over.

The old man blasted away Saxons like leaves on the wind, Morgana's dragon took flight at his command and the witch herself was knocked from her perch. Arthur could not believe it possible, had never seen anything like it. Lightning rained down on his enemies with remarkable precision – the onslaught sparing only Camelot soldiers.

The royal could not deny the evidence anymore; magic turned the battle. Without the sorcerer's help Camelot would have been defeated. When it was all over he'd simply disappeared, seeking neither gratitude nor payment – why?

Gaius had insisted the old man never intended to harm Uther and had done everything in his power to save the dying king but his son had never really believed it - until now.

Arthur winced getting up from the chair and had to brace himself against the table. A sheen of sweat formed on his brow and he took a moment to catch his breath. The strapping and arnica balm Gaius had applied to his ribs did little to ease the searing pain. It was as if he'd been stabbed by a blade – only he hadn't. The sword never pierced his skin, despite its owner's best efforts. Looking around the room the royal let out a sigh, taking a moment to appreciate what and whom he'd almost lost. If it weren't for Merlin, he wouldn't be here at all.

"I have magic, Arthur. I used it to save you. I'm sorry... but you had to live…"

How could this be? It was ridiculous. If Merlin was a sorcerer he would know - only he'd been fooled before, taken in by those closest to him and then betrayed. Arthur did not want to believe the words but his friend had acted so strangely in the days before the battle and then this - why would he say something like that? The king was still reeling, hounded by images of that day; there was no escape, they even haunted him in daylight hours:

His servant's screams as he crashed to the ground, clutching at his head. Merlin writhing in obvious agony as tears streaked his face and his heels kicked fruitlessly at the earth. It was horrific and Arthur felt nothing but relief when the convulsions stopped - but it wasn't over. "Take me, a servant for a king, that's fair," Merlin had begged before being enveloped in a golden light that left behind a limp and lifeless body.

To his shame he'd done nothing at first, told himself his injury stopped him from moving. He'd stared at the sky and tried to process the revelation until he could stand it no longer. Rolling onto his stomach he'd hauled himself through the mud on his elbows, enduring the pain in his side until he'd found a thin wrist and felt for a pulse. The steady strum was enough to allow darkness to claim him.

The next flash of memory was of Gaius looming over him and a sharp pain burning in his chest as it was tightly bound.

Arthur grabbed the physician's arm. "Merlin?"

Misjudging the king's urgency the physician answered with a smile. "Sleeping - he's exhausted."

Arthur looked around, checking they were alone, then pulled the old man closer and whispered. "He's a sorcerer."

Gaius stilled before straightening up and giving the king a hard look that revealed nothing. "What makes you say that, Sire?"

"He told me."

"I see." Gaius seemed resigned.

Arthur sagged as the inevitable truth hit. "You knew?"

The physician did not deny it, instead he grew in stature, lifted his head and addressed the king. "Merlin is a good man – exceptional. You have no idea what he has done for this kingdom or for you."

The old man stared at Arthur for a moment longer, gave a respectful bow and made for the exit. His hand was on the latch when the royal spoke in a whisper.

"He told me he'd used magic to save me, then he collapsed in agony – I thought he was going to die."

The physician turned and spoke solemnly. "Merlin has faced many trials in his short life. Despite appearances he's remarkably resilient and has an uncanny ability to survive whatever is thrown at him."

There was an awkward silence.

"I never knew."

The physician sighed. "That was partly my doing, Sire; I counselled him against it for his own safety. Merlin only kept secrets out of necessity. We live in difficult times; suspicion and intolerance prevail and I thought he deserved the chance to live."

Arthur stared at his hands.

"If that will be all, Sire?"

Arthur nodded.

Gaius gave a measured bow, leaving the king alone with his warring thoughts.

That was only a day ago but it felt like a lifetime. He still had to address his people, rejoice in Camelot's victory, and offer condolences to the families of those who had died making it happen.

Arthur believed he had a good sense of the world and knew right from wrong, but it wasn't that simple. All he'd ever wanted was to create a just and honourable kingdom, protect the weak and strive for equality. Magic was a threat, it was dangerous and it had taken everything from him. Friends, family, and comrades lost to its power; the innocent corrupted and ensnared; its tendrils had even taken hold of his wife. Yet without it, Guinevere would never have been restored, his kingdom would be ruined, and he would have perished on the battlefield. What if magic had never existed at all?

Merlin had been his only true friend, the person he'd confided in, who understood him best and challenged his decisions when no one else dared too. The servant had achieved what the best tutors and countless knights had failed to do, given Arthur humility and made a respected king out of an arrogant, spoilt prince. It hurt more than anything that for all the faith Merlin professed to have in him it was not enough to tell the truth.

He was questioning everything now: How long had Merlin been a sorcerer? Why did he choose that path? The thought of the skinny young man possessing any real power seemed ludicrous - but appearances could be deceptive. Perhaps he was just a seer - that would explain how he knew about Mordred. Wasn't it all the same? Was one kind better than another? He had no idea.

Camelots views on magic were well known; it did not make sense for a sorcerer to live in the city. Did the man have a hidden agenda? Was their entire friendship a lie? Arthur did not know what to do or what to say. He felt hollow and he wanted to be whole again but did not know how.

There was only one person who could answer these questions but the king could not bring himself to ask - not yet. He'd buried his head, hidden behind his injury, and was yet to speak to the man he no longer felt he knew. As he stewed in indecision it occurred to Arthur that it wasn't Merlin's bravery he'd been wrong about, it was his own.

The king sat by the door in his chambers, jumping when it banged open and the queen charged in.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did not expect you to be out of bed."

"Gaius insists I keep upright and move around – doesn't want me to develop a chest infection or suchlike." The king paused, taking in his wife's flustered appearance. "What's the matter, Guinevere?"

"We have a traitor, Arthur. We'll need a trial."

It was like a slap; the words made him recoil. He'd not told his wife, only speaking to Gaius. The reality of a trial seemed too much; Merlin had lied and broken the law but what harm had he actually done other than have magic? Maybe that was enough - his father would have certainly thought so.

"Do you think that's really necessary?"

The queen was incredulous. "Of course it's necessary. We took Eira in, trusted her, and she told Morgana where Gwaine left Merlin. It's a wonder he escaped."

It took a moment for the information to penetrate.

"What? What are you talking about? Why would Morgana go after Merlin?"

Gwen bit her lip and a crease formed between her eyebrows. "She hates him."

The king snorted. "Morgana hates everyone now."

The queen touched her husband's chest with her palm. "No, this is different - she really despises him. It's not the first time she's tried to kill Merlin. She blamed him for all her failed attempts on Camelot."

"That's stupid, he's just a - She what?... When?"

"Years ago she tried to get Merlin to kill you by putting an enchanted serpent in his neck. More recently she used poison - he was lured into the forest and pushed into a ravine."

"Why was I not informed of this?" Arthur barked, completely forgetting his servant's duplicity and only remembering the pale, limping man he'd teased about slinking off to see a girl.

Gwen looked down and her hands twisted the fabric of her dress. "Gaius removed the snake -"

"Well there's a surprise!" Arthur snorted. Who else was keeping things from him?

"And the other incident happened whilst I was…" The queen became agitated.

Arthur's expression softened and he reached for his wife's hand.

"I did not remember at first… then..." She looked up at her husband, beautiful face contorted in anguish, then turned away. "Arthur, I'm so sorry - I was ashamed. He seemed fine, then Mordred betrayed us and Morgana declared war -"

Arthur placed his hand gently under her chin, making her look at him. "It was not your fault, understand? Your mind was not your own."

"The things I did..."

The king embraced his wife. "It's alright, Guinevere. You were enchanted."

Even after she had been freed magic continued to make her suffer and he hated it for that. He rubbed circles into her back, trying to calm her and quell his own anger.

Suddenly she broke free. "We need to act quickly; there is no telling what other secrets Morgana's been told or what she will try and do."

"You're right, Guinevere, but I need to speak to Merlin first."

Merlin pressed the heels of his hands into his temples and willed the headache to go away. Everything was sore, as if he'd slipped from the cart on the return from Camlann and been trampled by the horses. He could recall nothing of the journey home and had been totally exhausted ever since. His magic had been all over the place but thankfully it was starting to settle now. Still, if it was the only price he had to pay for saving the king he would endure it willingly.

Gaius had assured him it was nothing serious, suggesting it was merely a combination of the return of his gift and the expenditure of such power during the battle. He'd felt fine at the time, it was only after finding Arthur that he had blacked out.

He'd not spoken to the royal since their homecoming and it felt odd - wrong. Arthur was recovering but Merlin needed to see him, had to erase those images of his friend's death - the hole in the king's armour and the feeling he'd failed.

Merlin had tried, he'd climbed out of bed only to crash to his knees and be hauled up by a disgruntled physician. Gaius had watched him closely after that, but eventually he'd been called away to tend to the injured. The warlock felt better now - it was worth another attempt. The thin blanket was discarded as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and waited for the spinning to stop. He stood but the world lurched and his hands gripped at the workbench.

"Merlin!"

The servant looked up just in time to give the king a dazzling smile before crumpling. He'd not ventured any distance and so collapsed back on the cot. He was already coming around by the time Arthur hobbled over.

"You idiot. What were you doing?"

"Coming to check on you."

"On me? You can barely stand!"

Merlin looked pitiful - frail and drawn. Arthur silently cursed the servant for making him care when he was trying not to.

"I'm fine."

It was the wrong thing to say, igniting a barely-controlled ire within the royal.

"How can you just lie so easily?" Arthur spat bitterly. "Or was that something else I was wrong about?"

"I – I was just a bit dizzy." Merlin replied, confused at how harsh the words were. "Arthur?"

The king stared for a moment, sky blue irises burrowing into the other man's soul. "Were you ever going to say anything about Morgana?"

Merlin paled.

"Guinevere told me how my sister went after you."

The servant hesitated, looking down at his hands before answering. "Morgana stole something from me and I had to get it back. She trapped me in a cave but I escaped."

The royal slowly absorbed the information; this wasn't the whole story and that irked him, but there was something else. "This was why you were late?"

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter now."

A wave of anger tore through the king. "You could have died."

"I didn't."

"That's not the point! Merlin, the night before the battle you urged me not to go. Demanded I should value my life above others and yet you would throw yours away?"

"It wasn't like that."

The blond shook his head. "I don't understand. I thought I knew you, Merlin."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"Then help me, because none of this makes sense."

"You have to live, Arthur. You are The Once and Future king. The things you can achieve and the kingdom you will continue to build - that's what's important."

The royal grabbed his hair in frustration. He wanted to hate Merlin for having magic, but how could he when he said things like that? Could he believe it? How could a sorcerer say such things? Was it all tricks and manipulation as his father would have said?

He observed the man before him and studied his features. He looked tired, old beyond his years, and it went against his knight's code to attack – but he had to know.

"What do you want, Merlin?"

Merlin looked into cold blue eyes. Something wasn't right, but the king's expression gave away nothing.

"I'm just a servant."

"Answer the question."

"I've told you – I want all the fighting to stop – I want peace."

"No. What do you want?" It was almost aggressive.

There was a loud wrap on the door. Leon's voice was urgent.

"Sire?"

Arthur held Merlin's gaze – a predator cornering its prey. "Not now, Leon."

The servant glanced at the door then back to his king. "I don't know what you're asking?"

"For the truth."

He bit his lip and swallowed, trying to loosen his throat that had suddenly gone dry, then whispered. "I want to stop hiding, I want to be accepted, and I want to be me."

Silence.

They stared at each other, neither wanting to turn away first.

The king said nothing, impassive. Merlin was going to qualify his strange answer, lie if he had to, but Arthur did not challenge it and the warlock did not know what to make of that.

Leon's voice was insistent. "Your Highness, the trial is about to begin. The queen is waiting for you in the throne room."

Arthur did not miss the beads of perspiration or the look of fear that passed fleetingly over the servant's face.

He leaned back in his chair upon realising how close he'd been to the other man.

"I have to attend Eira's trail. You may be called as witness - don't go anywhere."

Merlin nodded.

Arthur stood slowly, hand braced against his side. He looked like he was going to say something else but instead headed towards the doorway where Leon was waiting.

Merlin watched the two men depart then flopped down onto the bed and hugged himself. He felt like he'd just confessed to something and didn't know quite what. It had been a strange conversation, like he was being tested, and he did not know if he'd given the right answer or even if there was one.

He'd been so happy when they won the battle but now wondered if he was losing the war. They had achieved so much and come so far, yet a terrible sense of foreboding washed over him.

The atmosphere in the throne room was sombre but tense. The king and queen sat on their twin thrones, Gwaine stood to the side, and the prisoner was held by two guards in front of the royals.

"Eira of Stowell, you stand accused of treason and of being an informant to the witch Morgana." Stated Arthur calmly.

He glanced at Gwaine but the knight just gave a curt nod and the king continued. "The people of Camelot took you in at a time of need, provided shelter, food, and showed you kindness, and you have betrayed that trust. How do you plead?"

A loud crash and a bright light forced the king to shield his eyes.

The doors slammed and the sounds of the bolts sliding across could be heard. The room was clouded in dust and as it dissipated a lone figure stood in the centre.

"Hello, brother!" Morgana cooed before blasting away the guards that flanked Eira's sides. "Did you forget about me?"

TBC

Well, what do you think?

Final chapter to follow.