This chapter was rather difficult to write. I wrote and rewrote so much but I kept getting the tone wrong. Then Australia had a bit of a heatwave and I was reduced to little but a consumer of chilled drinks, then there was a bushfire rather close to where I live, which was rather distracting.

But finally I have finished Part III.

This has thrown off my whole 'I'll upload of Saturdays,' thing, but that was optimistic anyway. I was remembering writing Until Forever Ends, where I had a lot of chapters already written that I could regularly upload. I'm uploading this as I write it, so it will probably be much less regular.

Also, I corrected something in Part II. I said something like, "the druids voices sounded like windows over a lake," which makes absolutely no sense as an analogy. It is now what it was always meant to be.

Chairs.

Chairs makes so much more sense.

Obviously.

…

Ah, I kid, I kid.

It was supposed to be wind. (So much lamer then 'windows.')

Review responses: (from older to newer)

First of all, thank you for all of the fantastic reviews. It's great to hear what other people think about the concept of destiny and ethics in the world of Merlin.

ProcrastinationIsMyCrime: That would have made life interesting! Thank you.

Guest: Thank you. 'Destiny' is a commonly used concept, but whilst it can be interesting it can also send a bit of a bad message to the audience. "If you sit around and do nothing you will miraculously achieve something great." This is, of course, rarely true. I also agree with you on how Merlin constantly protecting Arthur's delusions was odd. It's not like keeping his magic secret, to protect himself. He is keeping truths Arthur has a distinct right to know from him for the sake of Arthur's feelings, which isn't really as kind as it first appears.

Seansey: I agree. Merlin often tries to protect Arthur's and his own personal feelings over what is right, which in the end just perpetuates the cycle of them being unhappy.

Guest: I know. I love the show but do feel it missed a lot of opportunities. And Arthur also forgets that a King owes loyalty to their people, as well. It should not be a one-way relationship. It's not only wrong, but illogical. How can a kingdom reach its full potential when it bends itself around the whims of a singular person?

Paulie: Yes! Right now, as a matter of fact. Apologies for the delay, I hope you find the wait worth it.

Guest: I agree with what you said, but I do think Gaius has done some commendable things. Even just in keeping Merlin. He betrayed Uther, his friend, to protect Merlin even though he hardly knew him. That doesn't make his support of Uther's tyrannical reign right of course, but still, it's better than nothing.

Guest: I hadn't thought about that, Arthur accusing people of magic in a different kingdom. Come on Arthur, get your act together! I don't think he's an idiot, I think he can be idiotic but he does try to do the right thing sometimes. Course, that doesn't negate when he does the wrong thing, but it does show he has a conscience.

It's getting quite late now and I have much to do tomorrow, like start writing Part IV.

So, here is Part III.

Enjoy.

The Man Who Could Never Go Home

Part III: Conversations

Though Arthur would never had admitted it he spent most of the afternoon he'd had Merlin thrown in the dungeon and the following Merlin-less day thinking about Merlin.

Initially he'd been angry at Merlin's inferences that his father was somehow lacking as a King and fed up with the servant's disrespect for the law and blatantly treasonous speech. However, the more time that passed the more Arthur remembered how Merlin had looked at him at the end. He'd turned away from Arthur's barbed voice with his eyes deflected low and angry, falling into the middle distance. Arthur was familiar with that look, that forced subservience. He was painfully familiar. His father had drawn it from him many times in the past when he wanted something from his son and would not hesitate to use his crown to get it. Arthur remembered how much he had hated it and how small he had felt knowing that, in that moment, his father cared nothing for his own will or views and only desired Arthur's acquiescence. Most of the time he would consent. Resentfully and angrily, he would consent. It was his father, even if he hated what was being asked of him what else could he do?

But as he would submit to his father's will a small, still defiant part of Arthur would think from a corner of his mind that if his father truly respected Arthur he wouldn't put him in this position. He was Arthur's father so Arthur could do nothing but concede, and it was because of this very fact that he thought his father should not ask him to.

Thinking all of this, knowing all of this, Arthur had then gone and done the exact same thing to Merlin like a hypocrite. He'd used his position as Prince to threaten Merlin into giving in and then when he hadn't submitted Arthur had made true on that threat. Arthur had punished Merlin for doing something he valued him for: speaking against him when he thought Arthur was making a mistake.

Arthur had punished Merlin for having the nerve to be Merlin.

He hadn't even been trying to insult Arthur by saying he was wrong because he was stupid. Merlin had been trying to convince Arthur because he had thought Arthur was being unjust and Arthur's justice mattered to him. He had spoken out of ignorance and friendship, and Arthur had responded by shutting him down and closing him out. He'd done exactly what his father would do. He'd built an unclimbable wall and blamed Merlin for being stuck on the other side.

Merlin might have been wrong but Arthur's response had been worse. At least Merlin's fault lay in something he couldn't help, his lack of education and a misleading willingness to believe the good in everything. At least he didn't just have a short temper and excess of impatience.

By the time Arthur woke the next morning, the morning Merlin would be returning to his duties, Arthur was painfully aware that he could not reconcile his actions with his own sense of honour and fairness. This then lead to the very uncomfortable realization that in order to retain any sense of self-respect Arthur had to talk apologize to Merlin.

Arthur sighed loudly and rolled over, pushing his head into his pillow. Even just thinking about apologizing rankled, it was so much easier to just be contemptuous and uncompromising. That was something that he had learned from the argument with Merlin and his subsequent calling of the guards; by making Merlin unable to keep talking Arthur had felt like he had won. For a while there Arthur had been so wrapped up in the knowledge that he was right and he had had won that Merlin's opinion hadn't mattered. Even though it had only been for a moment, he'd thought that if Merlin didn't agree with him that was his problem, not Arthur's, and the consequences were Merlin's to deal with alone.

There was something kind of lonesome and sad about that.

Merlin walked the familiar path from the kitchens to Arthur's room, wondering with some trepidation what Arthur was going to be like this morning. It would be the first time he'd seen him since their argument and, if he were being honest, he wasn't entirely looking forward to it.

It would have been so easy to catch Gwen when she came to the kitchens for Morgana's breakfast and ask to swap morning duties. Gwen would say yes, either because she had heard about Merlin and Arthur's recent fall out or because she would like an excuse to see Arthur. Arthur would also probably prefer to see Gwen's friendly face upon waking, as opposed to Merlin's face, even though it would also be friendly.

Also, this would give Merlin a chance to see Morgana.

He had stayed in Morgana's chambers for over an hour the night before. They had talked about magic and Camelot and then had even tried a few small spells together. Though Morgana had jammed her door shut with a chair and stuffed a putrid yellow ceremonial dress beneath the door they had both still been too anxious to do much more then make a few lights.

Though despite this it had still been magnificent.

Merlin had barely been able to sleep that night for excitement. All he could think about was how he had told Morgana he had magic and she had accepted it. She hadn't even blamed him for not telling her sooner because she understood The Fear.

After so long starving for some form of understanding or even, Merlin thought a little ashamedly, some form of acknowledgement, he now wanted nothing more than to go and see Morgana and talk to her more about magic and the future and everything.

But he couldn't.

He had to serve Arthur.

Merlin felt a little guilty about wanting to see Morgana rather than Arthur, though he knew rationally that he shouldn't. If this had nothing to do with magic there wouldn't be a problem. But it did, so it was.

Despite knowing magic wasn't evil Merlin had to be careful not to let the King's hate speech and society's prejudice get to him. It frightened him sometimes, how pervasive it all was. Merlin had once been peeling his way through a giant bowl of potatoes for a feast and one of the cooks had told a story about a brave Prince rescuing a helpless damsel from an evil sorcerer. Merlin had immediately envisaged Arthur as the Prince, Gwen as the damsel and himself as the sorcerer. He'd thought himself a free thinker and above such things as stereotypes, yet he hadn't thought twice before accepting how the story, like every other story, had made the woman weak and needy and the sorcerer cruel and malicious.

Also, Merlin reminded himself as he turned the corner down Arthur's hallway, he'd accepted without question the righteousness and kindness of the fictional Prince. He should have known better. After seeing what Uther had done and what people had let him do Merlin should never forget that nothing in Camelot was above question.

Merlin got to Arthur's door and paused for a moment, giving himself a moment to get into the right headspace. He wanted to lean his forehead against the cool wood but the large breakfast platter was in the way.

He would not let Arthur's temper get to him. He would carry Morgana's acceptance inside him all day to protect against Arthur's disregard. Though a niggling little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that him that Morgana's knowledge of his magic didn't actually make Arthur's ignorance any less.

Merlin bent down and leaned on the door handle with his left elbow and bumped the door open with his hip. Then, inhaling quietly through his teeth, he stepped into the room.

Arthur heard the door opening and turned from the view of Camelot. Merlin pushed the door shut behind him with the heel of his right foot, carefully keeping the platter of Arthur's breakfast level.

"Ah, Merlin," Arthur said in what he thought was a genial sort of voice, but Merlin's eyes jerked up to meet his and before his face could change Arthur saw the apprehension there.

It startled him a little bit and made him unsure of how to proceed.

"Morning Arthur," Merlin said and Arthur found him analyzing his tone of voice.

It was fine, much more genial then Arthur's attempt, but something was still wrong. There weren't enough words.

Merlin crossed the room looking between the platter and Arthur's cluttered desk and, once, a glancing up at Arthur. There was a smile on Merlin's mouth but not in his eyes.

"Ah…" Arthur said.

"I'll put this down on top of the important royal records, shall I?" Merlin said in a soft attempt at normalcy.

"Merlin," Arthur said, knowing that if he didn't do this now he never would, "I need to talk to you."

He seemed destined to be Merlin's echo.

Putting the platter down with paper crinkling beneath it Merlin looked up at Arthur.

"I need to apologize about how I acted the other day," he said.

Straightening slowly, Merlin did not look away from him.

"It was not fair sending you to the dungeons because you said something I did not like," Arthur stated.

Merlin frowned a little, a thin line appearing on his forehead.

"So…I'm sorry," Arthur said.

He felt very tight in the chest and he had to make an effort to keep his breathing smooth and soundless.

Looking surprised, it took Merlin a moment to say, "Arthur…I…"

He closed his mouth and swallowed with his eyes still on Arthur. Clearing his throat Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room. There was something intense burning in Merlin's eyes and Arthur didn't know what it was or what to do with it.

"That means a lot to me, Arthur," Merlin said. He may have picked up on Arthur's awkwardness because his voice was quite calm.

When Arthur looked back at him he saw that Merlin was rubbing one of his palms anxiously. It was reassuring, knowing that they were both lost here.

"Don't mention it," Arthur said off-handedly, though he meant it quite literally.

"I mean I…" Merlin began.

"Seriously," Arthur said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, "You don't have to mention it."

"But…uh…did you? I mean, did you think about what I had said?"

Merlin sounded so sure that what he said was going to trigger Arthur to yell for the guards again that Arthur felt guilty about his overreaction all over again.

"I did," he said, then moved to sit down.

Merlin followed him to his breakfast table then sat down very slowly, as though he spent the whole movement waiting for Arthur to tell him to stop.

"And?" Merlin asked as Arthur picked up the platter and used it to sweep an armful of documents off his desk.

Arthur sighed and returned the platter to its place in front of him.

"I don't like executions," Arthur admitted. "I hate them, actually. But Merlin…they are necessary. We don't have the resources to keep every criminal in Camelot locked up alive somewhere. Especially criminals with magic, because they are so much more dangerous and cannot ever be completely disarmed."

"I know," Merlin said, jiggling one foot beneath the desk. "But what about magic, Arthur? Did you think about what I said about that?"

"Yes," Arthur said, looking at his breakfast but making no further move to eat. "It's hard for you, Merlin, you didn't grow up in Camelot. Maybe…maybe magic in Ealdor isn't bad…but in Camelot all I have ever seen of it is evil. Unnatural diseases that take out whole villages in a day, monsters that rampage through the country for weeks before we can kill them, sorcerers that try to overthrow Camelot because all they want is power…"

Merlin winced slightly.

"If sorcerers were good people, why wouldn't they just go somewhere else? Somewhere they didn't have to kill people?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked away from Arthur out the window. There was light on his face and for a moment he seemed very far away. Arthur felt a strange strike of panic, like he had suddenly found himself entirely on his own.

"Maybe Camelot is their home," Merlin said.

He looked back at Arthur, returning to himself, but the memory of the moment lingered.

"Merlin," Arthur said, looking closely at his friend. "Is there something you are not telling me?"

Merlin looked at him for a long, long time, then the corner of his mouth quirked as though he'd heard a joke Arthur had missed. Somehow, despite the humour, it looked sad.

"What about the druids?" Merlin said instead of answering.

"I thought about that and I do think you had a point," Arthur said, though he was frowning at Merlin's evasion. "From what I have seen they have always been peaceful. Maybe they cannot be corrupted by magic somehow."

Merlin frowned in a wry sort of way.

"So…based on that, do you think that there's a chance Ereesa's execution wasn't right?" He asked slowly, watching for Arthur's reaction.

"Ereesa?"

"The woman who was executed the other week, the druid woman."

Arthur remembered.

"Oh," he said. He looked down at the table. He hadn't known her name.

"I didn't know her name either, Arthur," Merlin said, as though Arthur's thoughts had been written on his forehead. "Somebody told me."

"Who?" Arthur asked, curious.

Merlin gave another smile of sideward sadness, "I have my sources."

Sometimes getting information from Merlin was like getting blood for a stone. Arthur didn't push it.

"I don't know if it was right," he said, responding the earlier question. "I don't know, Merlin."

Merlin bobbed his head as though that were all he had expected Arthur to say, but when he leaned forward and helped himself to one of Arthur's apples Arthur heard him murmur,

"That's not a no."

When Merlin left Arthur's chambers to take his pile of dirty dishes back to the kitchen he had a lot to think about. That had gone better than he had hoped. Yes, Arthur had said he thought magic was evil because he had only ever seen it used for evil in Camelot, but little had he known that he had said this to the one person in Camelot who was the most perfectly equipped to show him otherwise.

And he had asked Merlin. Arthur hadn't known it, but he had asked Merlin The Question, The Question About His Secret.

Is there something you're not telling me?

Merlin wished he'd had the courage to answer Arthur then and there.

Yes, Arthur. I have been by your side saving your life with magic all this time and I think I would like to change the world with you.

He hadn't the courage though.

Nothing's changed. I'm still Merlin.

Please forgive me.

It was a colossal thing, this fear. It was like a huge storm cloud over a mountain, a mountain stacked atop another mountain. It was so great it rivalled Merlin's faith in Arthur, though it did nothing to rival his loyalty.

No, this was not the sort of foe that could be faced on a whim. It was either faced because there was no other choice, or it was carefully, hesitantly, bravely approached from a long distance away, each step that was taken ready to be taken back.

Merlin was on his way forward. He was still far enough away Arthur didn't yet know he was coming.

Arriving at the kitchens Merlin ducked through the door when a waiter opened it to exit. The morning bustle had died down though there were still multiple people on duty. Merlin moved to the washing bucket and gave the dirty plates and cutlery to a scullery servant. Normally he would now go back to Arthur's room to change his sheets and clean his floors. He made a habit of doing this without magic to lessen the chance, however remote, that somebody might find something odd enough with how long it took Merlin to complete his servant duties to do a little investigating. However, today Merlin was going to let himself go late and do it all with a snap of magic. This freed up a few morning hours that he planned to use very productively.

"Hi Gwen," Merlin jogged over to his fellow servant.

"Oh," Gwen said, peering around a large stack of towels. "Hello Merlin."

Wordlessly Merlin reached out and carefully took the top half of the stack so that Gwen could see without needing to tilt her head at right angle.

"Oh," she said again. "Thanks."

Gwen stepped hesitantly off in the direction she had been going before Merlin had come over, obviously wanting to talk to him but being quite busy. Obligingly Merlin fell into step beside her.

"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday," Merlin said, straightening his grip on the towels by bracing them against his chin. "It was just…you know…confidential…court…stuff…"

"That's alright," Gwen said, eyes fluttering down, "I understand.

For a moment Merlin frowned, then when Gwen looked back up he joked, "Would it be better if I did that…" Merlin waved one hand beneath the towels and reached futilely towards his face. "…nose-tap thing people do when they're talking about stuff that's all hush-hush in-the-know code-winks?"

Gwen glanced up and grinned a little.

"It's okay Merlin," she said, "I understand court confidentiality. It's not your fault."

"Good, um, because I need to talk to Morgana again…" Merlin looked appropriately sheepish. Thankfully this time Gwen look understanding instead of offended.

"It's for Arthur but it's…not for him, I suppose, because of him?" Merlin rambled, giving himself enough breathing room that if Gwen talked to Arthur and realized he hadn't been sending Merlin to talk to Morgana it would not seem suspicious. She'd think Merlin had a private Arthur-based conundrum that only Morgana could fix.

Which, in a way, he did.

Technically he wasn't lying. He was toeing the line, arms up for balance. He hated it because he knew that when he finally revealed his secret it would be times like this that people would look back on and hate him for.

"Yeah, okay," Gwen said. She looked concerned for Arthur, more concerned than just a casual acquaintance would be, "she's on the eastern garden balcony. Is something the matter Merlin? Is everything alright?"

Is everything alright?

Is there something you're not telling me?

Guilt squirmed in Merlin's stomach, but he threw a reassuring smile on his face.

"It will be," he said.

I hope.

The glass rattled in its white frame as Merlin gently tapped it with his knuckles. He stopped fairly quickly, worried the window would shake right out of the doors, but Morgana had heard him by then and looked around. She was sitting in a delicate white chair on the balcony, which was a stone so white it was quite iridescent in the sunlight. Morgana's face was carefully blank until she recognized Merlin. She didn't smile but her face did lose its carefully neutrality as she stood and turned away from her view of the gardens. Merlin held the door open for her and she stepped through.

"Hello Merlin," she said, turning and pulling the curtains closed. Merlin found a tea set on a table near the window that had evidently been used and carefully made note to head for it should somebody walk in the door. Both of their deceptive habits matched each other well.

"What can I help you with?" She asked, obviously realizing that Merlin was hardly likely to want to practice magic tricks during the middle of the day.

"I was thinking you might like to meet some druids?" Merlin said hopefully.

Morgana looked politely surprised.

"I mean, I know I just told you about my magic yesterday, but I thought…well, I've had some ideas about the whole returning magic to Camelot thing and I thought there's no time like the present," Merlin said, voice wavering between enthusiasm and hesitancy.

"Are they safe?" She asked, moving further into the room.

"Yeah," Merlin said, slightly confused. Morgana had made an account of the virtues of druids before when arguing with her father and Arthur. "They won't attack us or anything, they're very peaceful people."

"No, I mean my secret, our magic. Are they safe? Can they be trusted?" She tossed her head back. She looked haughty but Merlin guessed it was only skin deep.

"Yes," he said in a firm voice, "they've known about my magic ever since I arrived and have never once betrayed me."

"But what about me? I am a Pendragon in all but blood."

"They will not hold that against you. They care about life, all life. If you don't mean them harm they won't mean you harm."

"Intentions and perceived intentions aren't always the same in Camelot," Morgana said. "In fact, they rarely are."

"I won't make you go, I understand. But I do think you can trust them," Merlin smiled sadly. "Actually, they kind of need me…in a way. Even if they didn't like you it wouldn't matter, they can't harm you because you are my friend."

He didn't think it was presumptuous saying they were friends and Morgana did not protest. Instead she looked interested.

"What do you mean they kind of need you?" She asked.

"It's complicated. Maybe I can tell you…on the way to the druids?"

Morgana smiled though still seemed conflicted. Merlin watched her thoughts on her face. After a moment curiosity and hope won over fear and doubt.

"Okay. I have dinner with my father tonight, but maybe after that? Would they object to us coming at night? Do we need to send a note or be offered invitation?"

Morgana thought about this a lot more the Merlin did. He either came when he was called or just showed up at the druid camps when he needed help; he'd never thought to apply any politics from Camelot about invitation or greeting.

"I don't think so, the other week a druid turned up on a hunt and lead me to their camp because they had to talk to me," Merlin said. Though he was pondering the issue he didn't miss the way Morgana's gaze grew keener as she learned he was the sort of person druids went out of their way to talk to. "I have gone to their camps before and they have never objected. They understand it's difficult for me in Camelot. Anyway after what we talked last time I think they would be interested in another visit, no matter the time."

Merlin wondered what Morgana was making of all of this. He knew that the emotions he saw on her face were only those she let him see, so really they weren't emotions at all.

Morgana was a hidden creature.

"Tonight," she said slowly, watching him. "Not straight after dinner, a few hours later when everybody is sleeping. I will come to the Physician's quarters; I can claim I couldn't sleep and had run out of my medication. I'll dispose of that when I return to my rooms now, just in case. If we are caught we can say I was sleepwalking. My nightmares are no secret. I will say you came to find me."

"Okay," Merlin said. He was impressed by how thorough Morgana was. Gaius had thought she was going to be a liability but Merlin had thought she would be an asset.

She may be a hidden creature but then so was Merlin. So was, in a way, everyone.

Merlin nodded to Morgana.

"I'll be ready."

Sneaking out of the citadel with the King's ward was surprisingly easy. So easy in fact that Merlin wondered if he should perhaps be trying to find some casual and non-suspicious way to alert Arthur to the fact that his guards were either alcoholic, suffered chronic fatigue or were alcoholics who suffered chronic fatigue.

Morgana was surprisingly well-practiced at this. Merlin wondered why she seemed so familiar with sneaking in and out of Camelot but thought it would be rude to ask.

They had agreed in voices hushed, whispers in time with Gaius' snores, not to take horses. They were noisier, bigger and so much harder to explain. It might've been quicker but they added so much more risk it just wasn't worth it. Merlin preferred a long walk in the dark to a short walk to the pyre. The dark had never hurt him. Things in the dark, maybe, but never the dark.

They walked silently for the first hour, but when they got under the cover of trees they both pushed the hoods back from their heads and looked around. The air was crisp and cold as the night sky above them on this cloudless night. Everything was blue in this light.

"Is there a path?" Morgana asked. She kept her voice quiet from instinct, though there was nobody around but Merlin.

"Not really. They change camps. They're in the area at the moment, but I might have to feel it out with my magic," Merlin said back, voice a little hoarse as he both strained to be heard and strained to be silent.

Morgana nodded. She had her back to the moon so Merlin couldn't quite see her eyes.

He led the way through the trees.

"You said earlier that they need you? That it's," Morgana paused, possibly for effect, "complicated?"

"It is," Merlin said.

The forest was making normal, soft forest noises but he couldn't help but fear that every snap or rustle was a knight, a guard, someone coming to get him. The light was surreal; it was like he wasn't really awake.

Morgana was silently waiting for him to continue. He wondered how to tell his story.

"Magic has to have balance," Merlin began, looking ahead and not sideward to Morgana. "Life and death, give and take. You can't destroy magic. You can kill people with magic, but you cannot kill magic."

Morgana sucked in a quiet breath on 'kill' but Merlin was so used to the concept of his own likely murder that the words didn't hurt him, or if they did he was used to the pain.

"During the purge, when the King was executing all of the sorcerers and sorceresses and having the dragons and unicorns wiped out and destroying all of the magical artifices it unleashed a great amount of magic in the world. It was loose and just…out there…but magic doesn't like to be loose and out there, it wants to be attached to something."

Merlin pushed a branch away from his face, it was weeping sap and his hand came away sticky. He wiped his hand on his cloak.

"This is where I come in," he tried to say it lightly but saw Morgana glance at him. She was deducing what he was going to say before he had a chance to say it.

"I am where the magic went. In some other time I probably would've been a run of the mill sorcerer, born with a little magic but nothing amazing. But I was born during the Purge, and though a lot of people were for some reason all of the magic…came to me…I don't know why it didn't distribute equally," Merlin was now talking almost to himself. "It would've made more sense. I wasn't even born in Camelot…" he realized what he was doing and closed his mouth on the words.

For a moment the only noise was the wind in the tree branches above them and their footfalls on dirt and leaves beneath.

"Are you powerful?" Morgana asked, her bluntness softened by her kindly tone.

"Yeah," Merlin said. He didn't clarify that he was the most powerful warlock ever born, that might sound like boasting.

Or worse, it might frighten Morgana.

Merlin did not know if he could stand it if people were frightened of him. He didn't know what he would do.

"Okay," Morgana said, as though agreeing on something that was merely mildly interesting, like an opinion on some particularly ugly ceremonial swords. Oddly, but intuitively, Merlin felt that this was Morgana's way of showing him a kindness.

"Anyway," he continued, "the druids have thought, for quite a while, that I'm the one who's going to return magic to Camelot. That's why they 'need' me…though I guess 'need' is a strong word. They want me as an ally. They have me as an ally. That's why you're safe; they won't hurt you because it would mean alienating me."

Merlin looked over. Morgana was nodding to what he had said.

"Okay," she said again. "That makes a lot of sense. Thank you."

She fell quiet and Merlin let her think. An owl hooted somewhere off to Merlin's right, then a few minutes later again far to his left. Insects winged invisibly nearby. Merlin heard a short, guttural noise that startled him for a moment before he identified it as the lowing of a distant deer.

"The druids must be nearby by now," Merlin said quietly. The deer had made him think about how one would never let knights get as close as they were, but that druids probably would not frighten the woodland wildlife. They were too much a part of this world, they were too accepting of the wild magic to be a threat.

He and Morgana had been walking long enough that the druids were surely aware of them. Merlin stopped and Morgana followed suit. They both looked around but the shadows were unrevealing.

"Should we-" Morgana began but Merlin moved his head sharply. He was going to 'sh' her but the movement was enough and she stopped talking.

"Emrys," a druid Merlin did not recognize stepped out of the darkness behind them. Merlin turned but Morgana whipped around.

"Oh yeah, they also call me Emrys," Merlin added as an aside to Morgana, trying to sound humorous to help her be less afraid. He then raised his voice, "Were you eavesdropping?"

He wasn't angry, more interested that somebody might actually find what he said worth eavesdropping on.

"You needed to speak and Morgana needed to listen," the druid said, reminding Merlin of Kilgarrah's tendency to be non-committal and cryptic.

Merlin saw that it was a man as the druid stepped closer, he had a light voice.

"You know my name," Morgana said, sounding distrustful.

"At least they got it right," Merlin said. "We seek audience with the druids of these woods."

The man nodded, unsurprised, having heard their conversation.

"Follow me," was all he said.

The druid council is seated in the same place as last time, though the fire was lower and easier to see over. The same druids were there as well, Felin, Dura, Terrisa, Aesin, Golden-tree and Hissa. Merlin had only remembered Felin and Golden-tree's names, though tried to commit the others to memory as they introduced themselves to Morgana. After the introduction the council members shifted closer to let Morgana and Merlin sit in their circle. Merlin guessed that this was a privilege and nodded respectfully to them each in turn.

"Morgana," Felin said. He faced her and his long plait, which had been resting on his shoulder, fell down his back.

Morgana looked across to him, letting her gaze acknowledge that he had spoken.

"The Pendragon, the Dreaming Lady," Felin said, the tails of his words getting lost in the soft cracking of the fire.

Morgana raised her chin slightly and the firelight made the angles of her face look severe. She looked like a piece of strange art.

"We mean you no harm," Golden-tree said. The bird on her shoulder that had been asleep when Merlin had first seen her was now awake. It was a blackbird and had bright eyes.

"And I mean you no harm," Morgana replied, "so long as you do not betray the secret of my magic to the King of Camelot."

The druids seemed to expect and accept her distrust easily.

"Why did you desire to come here? Emrys?" Golden-tree asked, looking away from Morgana to Merlin.

"Well," Merlin glanced at Morgana, "two reasons. I wanted to introduce Morgana to you and I wanted to talk about returning magic to Camelot. I have an idea that I would like to tell you about it."

At these words a few druids from around the camp beyond the firelight murmured to each other words Merlin couldn't quite make out.

The old druid woman, Dura, narrowed her eyes at Merlin. He didn't know why and it made him nervous.

Morgana looked around the circle with an expression that dared the druids to say the introduction wasn't over. Again, the druids did not seem to mind, but Merlin wished she would hide her nerves in a less overtly hostile manner. It worked with Uther, but was a bit much for people who wanted to help her.

"You seemed hesitant when we last discussed the matter of returning magic to Camelot," Felin said. "May I ask what changed your mind?"

Merlin nodded and looked at the ground.

"Largely it was what you said. I've been thinking about it and this morning…I talked to Prince Arthur…"

Morgana looked around at Merlin, forgetting to look imperious in her surprise.

"And…well, when I was thinking about how we would return magic to Camelot I thought…the best way to do it peacefully would be with the Prince's help. I talked to him a few times and he was…difficult…but then this morning he was…I think there's a chance."

The druids were silent. They passed looks around the circle until all eyes returned to Merlin.

"Merlin, are you thinking about telling Arthur?" Morgana was looking at him in shock.

Merlin didn't think he would be able to keep his voice steady so he just swallowed and nodded mutely in response.

"Arthur, the Prince? Arthur Pendragon? That Arthur?" Morgana said.

Merlin went to speak; words failed him, and nodded again.

"You are of the opinion that the Prince would aid the magical community?" Felin said, frowning.

"I think he might," Merlin said quietly, finding it easier to look slightly to the right of the fire then at anybody, "if given the chance. He has in the past."

"In secret," the druid man, Aesin, said. His voice curled with something unpleasant. "When he thinks he can 'get away with it,' as it were. What makes you think he will openly declare his loyalties to the magical community when it means openly declaring them against his father?"

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy," Merlin said, finding the courage to look this druid in the eye. "But what is the alternative? Not giving him a chance and waste the opportunity that he might side with us?"

"It's a risk," Aesin said. His hair was a brown that looked coppery in the firelight. Merlin knew his severe looking face would be less so out of the firelight.

"He won't hurt anybody. I won't let him," Merlin said.

The druids would think Merlin would stop Arthur from hurting somebody innocent for the sake of the innocent person, and whilst this may be true, it was not all of the truth. He would also be doing it for Arthur.

Aesin still looked doubtful.

"If Arthur sided with us reintroducing magic would be so much easier and safer. We could do it slowly, without having to fear of people being executed as we took the time to get people used to the idea. It would be wrong to deny him the chance to do the right thing," Merlin said in an immovable voice. "It's his choice."

To contradict Merlin now would be to contradict what they had said to convince him change was necessary. To say that Arthur should not be allowed to choose would be to pull the foundations underneath why the druids thought destiny was a matter of choice.

It was, perhaps, an unforgiving and hard tactic, the sort Merlin was not entirely comfortable with using, but it was effective. Though she still looked doubtful over the idea of Merlin revealing his magic to Arthur Morgana also looked at Merlin appraisingly. He suspected she liked what he had done. She probably thought it showed spine.

"It is your secret and your friendship," Felin said, sounding regretful but resolute, "it is your choice to make."

Yes, Merlin thought. It is.