Author's notes: I feel specially happy today because I have to thank many of you for leaving reviews for my story. It is wonderful to know that new readers are finding my story and enjoying it. I hope I can continue to pick up more new readers and keep the ones I already have happy, so they want to leave reviews.

Oh, and I don't own Merlin, I just borrow the characters for a little time.

Chapter Seven

Small Steps

On the second day of Arthur's return, he disobeyed his physicians' and wife's advice and ventured out of his chambers. At first, he'd contented himself with walking around the top floors of the citadel, re-acquainting himself with his home, which, for a time, he thought he'd never see again. If it were possible, he found Camelot even more precious.

Yet he soon grew restless, and surely his nursemaids wouldn't be too annoyed with him if he continued his stroll. After all, he'd been very good the day before in abiding by their instructions. He'd napped in the afternoon, after his meeting with Leon and Percival, and only risen to join Guinevere, Merlin and Gaius for dinner, where there had been an unspoken agreement by all four that no serious conversations would intrude upon their joy.

Perhaps he had forgotten Gaius' stricture about no strenuous exercise that night when he and Guinevere had gone to bed. But what was a man to do, after having been separated from his wife for too long, and under exceptionally trying circumstances? Besides, Gwen had seen to it that he didn't strain himself over much, and he had slept very well afterwards. So, he'd looked upon their night time activities as therapy.

He certainly felt stronger this morning, definitely no reason to be acting like an invalid.

Soon he'd found his way to the infirmary, which had taken over one of the larger halls of the palace, checking in on the state of his wounded knights and soldiers. He'd spoken to each of the casualties who were conscious, thanking them for their service and assuring them they would not be forgotten. With the more severely wounded, he'd asked those caring for them how each one did, and if they were likely to survive. His heart was heavy when he finished his rounds, and he made a mental note to ask Merlin whether any of the dying could be saved by magic. The benefits magic could bring could not be reserved only for royalty.

Lost in thought, he paid little attention to where he was heading and wandered slowly outdoors. Standing at the top of the stairway, he basked in the sun's rays while surveying the courtyard. The shrouded bodies had gone, many burials having taken place before Arthur's return, but discarded weapons and the dead men's possessions had been stacked in various piles, or on wagons around the edges of the yard, waiting to be reclaimed by members of the soldiers' families, or to be sold off.

The proceeds of the auction would go to support the bereaved relatives, since the breadwinner was now deceased, or too badly injured to continue with work.

Shaking his head in sorrow at the large amount of accoutrements on display, Arthur decided it was his duty to oversee the future proceedings and perhaps supplement the funds from the royal purse. There would be too many families facing hardship this coming winter. He would have to talk with his treasurer on the matter, as there was gold and jewels aplenty in Camelot's vaults, which would ensure his people didn't starve. He moved off down the steps with a rueful grin. This was yet another subject on which many of his council would not approve. He was acquiring quite a list.

Plus, there was one more thing he could do for those who had paid the ultimate price in his name. It wasn't much, but he would order a memorial service to honour the dead, since he had not been present at their funerals. That should, at least, please both nobles and commoners, especially the feast at the end of the day, and he doubted even the most parsimonious of Camelot's nobles would begrudge the food and drink he would provide for the townsfolk. Perhaps he would set up the feast for the people of the town and out lying villages here in the square. In this new age of Albion, he felt he should make an effort to become better acquainted with his people.

His feet took him where his thoughts led, and he crossed the drawbridge into the streets, holding his breath as he passed his guards. It wouldn't have been beyond imagination that Guinevere, with Merlin's and Gaius's help, had instructed the sentries not to let him leave the citadel alone. He was fairly certain they wouldn't approve of his adventure, but his fears were unfounded and he made his way through the town.

Surprisingly, though he was sure there would be many who were in mourning, the mood of the citizens seemed relaxed and positive. Some enterprising people had hung bunting across the narrow lanes, while the standard of The Pendragons appeared everywhere, above doorways and nailed to walls. He felt certain that if the town's people had recognised him he would have been mobbed by well-wishers.

But he had left off his chainmail; it was dirty and needed mending, and he probably wouldn't use it much in the future anyway. This latter thought dampened his spirits, but on such a day, when the sun was shining and the majority of his people appeared happy just to have survived, it would be churlish of him to sink into a depression. Thankful he was wearing a plain white shirt and dark trousers, with his shabby blue cloak, he pulled the hood low over his head to hide his face and went on to explore.

Outside the tavern, a band of pipers were playing a merry tune, while some young women danced a jig to the beat of a tambourine. Arthur strayed a little too close, caught up in the moment, and found himself pulled by a pretty girl into the dance, she twirled him around and passed him onto her friend, who was exceedingly energetic. His new partner, picked up her skirts with one hand while she linked her arm through his and began to spin. Around them, the others clapped and cheered, and the pipers played faster and faster.

Everyone but Arthur was laughing, but it wasn't conceit or reserve that made him desperate to withdraw. He only wished he felt well enough to enjoy the chance festivities, but his partner was too sprightly, her whirling too quick. More and more, his head and chest started to ache, as the beat of the music jarred through his body. All about him the noise increased, but the crowds had built up and there seemed no escape.

Oh, god! He was going to pass out in the middle of his people, outside the tavern. They would send for Gaius and the game would be up. Merlin and the guards would carry him, ignominiously, back to the citadel, where Guinevere would scold him for being so stupid, and the folk would spread the rumour that they have a weak and sickly king on the throne.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and pulled him from the fray, steadying him as he stumbled, and a voice whispered in his ear.

"Is there somewhere nearby where you can rest, Arthur Pendragon?"

It took Arthur a few moments for his senses to settle, to notice the stranger who was supporting him, and to regain his bearings. The man was dressed as covertly as himself, though Arthur's disguise was in danger of being blown, his hood having fallen back and his cloak almost slipping from his shoulders during the dancing. His unknown helper sorted his clothes, so that once again he would not be recognised by a passing glance. Though, if those gathered at the tavern had not noticed their king was amongst them, it was probably safe to assume he was in the clear. People only expected to see a king in his proper setting.

"Can you make it back to the citadel?" his saviour asked again.

Arthur shook his head, quickly deciding that would be a big mistake. The ache behind his eyes had now magnified into something that felt like a wild boar charging through his skull.

"No, not yet," he managed to grind out between his clenched teeth. "Over there. That house." He pointed to a small dwelling across the street, a couple of doors down from the tavern. It was Guinevere's old home, and though she seldom visited now, she still couldn't bear to be parted from it. Arthur understood why she felt that way, and right at this moment was very grateful to have a bolt hole.

Together, he and his helper made their way to the door, and pushing it open, they staggered inside.

"Thank you for helping me, and I'm sorry to be a burden," Arthur said, once he had sat down on the bed and laid his head back against the wall, allowing his eyes to close.

He could hear the other man sitting on the bench by Gwen's table. "You are not a burden, Arthur Pendragon. I was glad to assist you. It is why I have come to Camelot."

Arthur's eyes opened to examine the cloaked figure opposite him. The man wore an old homespun gown of a dull brown, but now he'd removed his hood, revealing the Druid whom Arthur had met a few times over the years. His hair was streaked with more grey, but his lined face was still enigmatic, though he projected an air of calm... he always had. Even when Arthur had seized a young Druid boy in the caves, he had betrayed no threatening manner, but had simply asked for the boy's release. To tell the truth, Arthur was not proud of his actions that day. Normally he didn't terrorise children.

"I'm sorry for what I did that day, when I invaded your home, looking for The Cup of Life," he admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "That was ill done of me. I was desperate, but I never would have harmed the boy."

The Druid bowed his head slightly. "I know that, Arthur Pendragon. I do not wish to speak ill of your father, but you are not such a man who wilfully kills what he fears, and for that reason, I have come to treat with you."

Beginning to feel somewhat better, Arthur sat up straighter, choosing to ignore the man's appraisal of his father, though in truth, Arthur could no longer excuse that aspect of Uther's rule. "It's probably Merlin you want to talk to. He's the expert on magic in Camelot."

"But your destinies are entwined," the man said, as if it were a fact that everyone understood. "Two sides of a coin."

Arthur gave one of his lop-sided grins. "That's getting to be very well used phrase."

"Only because it is true," the Druid replied, then tucked his hands in the flowing sleeves of his robe.

There were a few moments of silence as each man studied the other, finally Arthur cleared his throat.

"Our paths have crossed a few time over the years, and yet I don't even know your name," he said apologetically.

"I am Iseldir, leader of my clan." The man rose and bowed. "It has been a long path, yet finally we walk it together, Arthur. I thank you for lifting the laws against my race."

"There is no need for thanks. The law was unfair. It always was, and I should have atoned for my father's mistake as soon as I became king. For my sins, I apologise, but I still reserve the right to prosecute any Druid who commits a crime of theft or violence against Camelot, or against another Druid for that matter."

Again, Iseldir inclined his head. "I have no quarrel with that decree. We follow peaceful customs, and seek love and wisdom always, between all peoples, but I am sorry to say some have strayed from our ways. I would ask only that you allow my own law-makers to deal with those who have committed a crime not in your kingdom, nor against your people."

This time, Arthur gave a slight bow of his head. "Of course. I would not seek to force my laws on anyone out with my jurisdiction. I sincerely hope we can come to an agreement which will suit both our peoples, and bring..."

What Arthur was to bring was not to be discovered, as a very worried Merlin burst through the door.

"There you are!" Merlin declared, anxiety raising his voice and causing him to forget his manners, but he did close the door behind him before continuing his rant. "What were you thinking of? And what is this I hear being bandied around in the street? Something about The King joining in the celebrations outside The Rising Sun, actually dancing a jig? What part of 'taking it easy' do you not understand?"

"Yes, Merlin. Ten out of ten for observation. I am here, and I'm pretty much all right," Arthur said with just a hint of his normal sarcasm. "And yes, strange though it seems, I did dance outside the tavern. Not very well, I might add, but I didn't have much choice. I was inadvertently incognito, and the girls dragged me into their dance, which wouldn't have turned out very well if it hadn't been for our friend here." Arthur gestured to the man standing by Gwen's old table. "This is Iseldir, who you probably recognise. He rescued me from my over joyful citizens and I got him to bring me in here, as I needed to rest for a bit. And," Arthur continued holding up his hand, "it was madness for me to leave the palace, so please don't lecture. I'm sure I'll hear enough about it from Guinevere, and I'll deserve every word, but I never meant to venture this far into town. I just wanted to see how my people were doing, and it seems they're celebrating my return." Arthur voice tailed off in wonder.

"What did you expect?" Merlin asked, relenting somewhat. "They care about you just as much as you care about them. And if you think you were incognito, then you really are crazy. The people recognised your blond dollop-head almost immediately, and now the story is all over town."

The Druid, Iseldir spoke up, defusing Merlin's frustration with his king. "There definitely appears to be a carnival atmosphere about Camelot, and I had expected them to be mourning their losses."

"The whole town and citadel was grieving, and they weren't sure if the Saxons were still out there, waiting to attack again," Merlin explained coming further into the room. "But since word got round of Arthur's miraculous return, the mood has changed completely. Come on, shift up a bit." He squeezed himself onto the end of the bed beside Arthur, making himself comfortable. "It's good to see you, Iseldir, and under happier circumstances than our previous meeting. I hoped you would hear my call and come to Camelot."

"I was intrigued by your message, Emrys. I could not stay away, since I am interested to hear what you and The Pendragon have planned." Iseldir's glance strayed from The Warlock to The King.

"Merlin, before we get settled here, I believe this conversation would be better held in the citadel, besides, if we don't get back, Guinevere will no doubt send out another search party."

The walk back to the palace took longer than any one of them had expected, and not because Arthur was infirm. Rather, it was the fact that word had circulated around Camelot about The King's impromptu dance in the street, and the people had come out to welcome him home.

Since Arthur, Merlin and Percival had arrived late at night, and the curfew, which had been in place from before the battle, had not yet been lifted, the townsfolk had only heard rumours of The King's return.

But after Arthur's unscheduled meeting with his people, news had spread like wildfire, and the people of Camelot had rushed to see for themselves that their king was indeed safe and living amongst them again.

Arthur was profoundly moved by the depth of his people's relief and happiness. He had always loved his land and the people who lived therein with a passion that outdid all others, sometimes more than his feelings for Guinevere and Merlin, but to discover that the citizens of Camelot returned his feelings tenfold almost unmanned him.

He would let no one pass who wanted to bow or shake his hand, in fact, the once arrogant prince raised all those who stooped or curtsied and took their hand or patted them on back or shoulder, his endearing grin wide on his face, while tears blurred his eyes.

This was worth coming back from the dead for. As he saw the joy with which he was received, he vowed in his heart he would never abandon them while he had the tiniest amount of fight left in his body. He pledged, also, he would struggle with every breath to ensure their lives would be as peaceful and unprejudiced as he could possibly attain.

He stumbled on the uneven cobbles as he approached the drawbridge, whilst those around him rushed to help. So it was that King Arthur returned to his courtyard on the shoulders of an exultant crowd, Merlin and Iseldir walking close enough to steady The King on his somewhat uneven perch.

The guards and off-duty soldiers, hearing the tumult, came to investigate and soon joined in by banging their spears against their shields, or clapping loudly.

Cries of 'Long live The King!' could be heard amongst the throng and swelled to a chorus which rose to the azure skies above, like a prayer of thanks to the various gods, whichever one believed in, Old Religion or New.

High on the castle balcony, Guinevere watched her husband. During the morning, she'd chaired a meeting with the ladies of Camelot on how to relieve the plight of those families who had lost a loved one in the war with Morgana and her Saxons. She had been due to meet up with Arthur at lunchtime, when they would dine with the closest members of the privy council to discuss tactics for the coming days.

Yet Arthur had never arrived, and she'd grown increasingly anxious as the servants, sent to find him, had returned without her husband. Merlin and Gaius had shown up alone, so too the knights. It seemed Arthur had been spotted earlier in the morning wandering somewhat aimlessly around the citadel, and that he might have gone outside, but no one knew for sure where he was.

Leon had gone to check with the guards in the square and returned with the strange news that The King had been seen in the town, celebrating with his people. Merlin had volunteered to go look for Arthur, and, believing that her husband would hate to be treated like a lost child, Guinevere had sent him off with the proviso that if he needed help he should call immediately for Leon and Percival.

She ought to have been annoyed with her clot-pole husband for risking his health and scaring those who cared for him most, but when she saw his beaming smile, the healthy flush of his cheeks as he was borne back to his home on the shoulders of the people, her heart melted.

He looked up and waved to her in triumph, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and elation, and the hint of an apology for causing her concern. It was the look he reserved only for her, and suddenly her heart was singing too, a lightness of soul sending her winging down the corridors to meet him at the portico. Once there, she threw her arms around Arthur, now standing on the steps above the crowd, and kissed him thoroughly.

The audience to this very public show of affection between King and Queen went wild, and knowing it would be some time before they were ready to leave, Merlin took it upon himself to order the issue of some of the food and ale that was being stocked for the planned party.

It was with some reluctance, that a short while later, the royal party left their subjects and entered the palace, heading for the chamber where their own food was laid out, to address the more serious prospect of their future plans.

Both Arthur and Guinevere led the conversation during the meal into lighter subjects, aided and abetted by Merlin and Gaius, though touching on magic. Merlin related some of his earlier attempts to conjure spells, when he first arrived in Camelot, to protect his young master.

Even Iseldir, who had been invited to join the group, added a few general snippets of information about Druid life, which interested Leon in particular. In fact, the meeting between the knight's commander and the chief Druid had been unusually friendly, no doubt because Iseldir and his followers had saved Leon's life.

Geoffrey of Monmouth, Camelot's High Seneschal, had been the only other person asked to attend, but he sat quietly next to The Queen, while his old eyes, hooded beneath bushy eyebrows, showed a keen interest in all that was said.

None of them talked of dark magic, though there was a mention of when Uther had married a troll.

Arthur surprised everyone by uttering a disparaging laugh. "Merlin, so that was how you knew Lady Katrina was a troll? I always wondered how you were able to know so much about almost everything, before I'd even worked out something was wrong."

Actually, Arthur was keen to hear the story, and not just for his own benefit. Queen Katrina might have tried to usurp his place as heir to the throne and plunder the kingdom's riches, but the whole fiasco did have its funny moments. Besides, it was a good example of how good magic overcame bad, and one where only the villains were killed. Plus it all happened before Morgana had turned against them.

Seeming to pick up on Arthur's thoughts, Merlin was happy to comply. "To tell the truth, when I first met her, I thought she was a beautiful, gracious lady who was kind to me. It was Gaius who was suspicious."

"And not through magic, Sire," Gaius hurried to explain. "When Lady Katrina visited Camelot as a child, she was not in good health. I treated her for a chronic bone disorder, an ailment which should have crippled her by the time she returned to the city as a woman grown, or more likely have killed her."

All those around the table hung on Gaius's every word. "I suspected she wasn't who she claimed to be, so I sent Merlin with the medicine I had given her so long ago..."

"Only, she didn't know what I was offering," Merlin added. "She looked completely mystified when I told her it was a potion from Gaius."

"That made us very wary, so next morning, Merlin returned to search her rooms on the pretext of collecting laundry and changing the bed linen."

At this admission, Merlin sent Arthur a questioning look before he continued.

"Please, go ahead, Merlin," Arthur smirked, gesturing for him to carry on. "I'm sure I would have objected strongly at the time, if I'd known, but I'm not going to get upset by something that happened so long ago, and probably on a regular basis..."

"Not a regular basis!" Merlin protested.

"Just now and then?" Arthur asked, deadpan.

"Exactly!" Merlin smiled, pleased his friend was so quick on the uptake.

"Exactly?" Arthur's eyebrows rose. "Just how often?"

"Will you two stop!" Guinevere interrupted. "We would all like to know what happened next, and we never will if you two keep sniping at each other."

"We're not sniping... We're just having a small altercation," Arthur admitted sheepishly. He'd begun this conversation for a reason, and he'd let himself be distracted by the discovery of how often Merlin had tricked him. He thought he'd come to terms with Merlin's duplicity, but, clearly, they had some issues to clear up. Though not at present. "So, what did you find?"

"The room was empty and it looked like the bed hadn't been slept in, and there was this very strange smell."

"I think we all remember the smell," Arthur interjected, earning him another glare from his wife. He lifted his hands up in surrender. "Go on. I'll be quiet."

Merlin nodded. "Then Jonas interrupted me, and I thought I noticed he had a tail."

"A tail?" This time it was Leon who broke in.

"Yes, but I couldn't be sure." Merlin divulged. "It all happened so fast."

Suddenly, Arthur sat up straighter. "So that was why you were in my room that night, lowering a mirror on a rope down to the floor below? You weren't a young boy with a bad case of puppy love. You wanted proof that Katrina was a troll."

"Yes," replied Merlin smugly. "But it wasn't a rope. I used magic."

"Right under my nose?" Arthur squeaked.

"You were supposed to be asleep!"

"Please, Sire, Merlin, forgive me, but this isn't helpful," Geoffrey of Monmouth spoke up, at last, his voice so filled with gravitas that it shocked the younger men into silence. "I would like to ask Gaius why he didn't talk to King Uther? I, too, remembered the younger version of Katrina, and that she suffered from some ailment, though her father did try to keep it quiet. I expect he didn't want to spoil her chances of making a good marriage."

"I wish I had remembered you met her too, my friend," Gaius said, shaking his head sadly. "I could have used your support when I approached Uther."

"Then you did speak to my father?"

"Indeed, Sire, but he chose not to listen." Gaius steepled his fingers together as he recounted. "Rather forcefully, as I recollect... and when we finally unmasked the troll, it was too late. She had enchanted him."

"Did you use magic to show her in her true form?" Guinevere always asked the thoughtful questions.

All eyes turned to Merlin. "Not really. Troll magic is very powerful, and I was just an ordinary novice..."

"There was never anything ordinary about you, Merlin," Gaius said, remembering the innocent young boy who'd barged into his chambers and saved his life with magic.

Iseldir gave a wise, world-weary smile. "Though you had yet to come into your powers, Emrys, the Druids always knew of your potential for greatness."

Arthur rolled his eyes. He fully accepted Merlin's persona, but to him, he'd always be just... Merlin. "If you didn't use magic, how did you expose her?"

"I used her own sorcery on her. She was taking a potion to hold the spell in place. Gaius simply made a similar, but useless one and I replaced the original, and let me tell you, Arthur, you might complain about evil tasting potions, but nothing could compare with how gross that was."

"You tasted it?"

"Gaius made me."

"Well, we had to get it right," the physician explained. "If she had suspected..."

"I'd still have a troll for a step-mother and Camelot would have an ugly, avaricious queen. We would have become a laughing stock. Thank goodness you found a way to destroy her enchantment of my father."

"You were the one who did that, Arthur." Merlin smiled broadly to his friend.

"I only did what you told me to, which proves that people of magic can work with normal people for the greater good." Arthur finished with a grin, but there was a serious note in his voice. "I hope we all remember that fact from now onwards."

The occupants of the room received Arthur's homily with different attitudes. Iseldir appeared surprised and pleased, while Leon looked thoughtful. The citadel's oldest magnate nodded his approval; Geoffrey remembered a time when magic was welcomed in Camelot and the land had prospered. Percival smiled, happy in the knowledge that his king and friends were safe and more likely to stay that way with magic on their side.

Merlin and Gaius simply exchanged satisfied glances. This discussion had gone better than they could have hoped, and all they'd done, so far, was recount an old story.

From the end of the table, Guinevere beamed at her husband. Merlin might have magic, but she had always known that Arthur had greatness in him too. Together they would work wonders.

I hope you enjoyed this more lighthearted chapter. I felt that some of the past chapters have been a bit intense, so I thought my characters deserved a little light relief. Particularly since there is more drama ahead.

Please do let me know what you think of my efforts, whether you enjoyed reading what I've written, or not. I'd love to see my number of reviews and followers increasing. It gave me such a thrill last time.