Wow, this chapter got long.
Sorry for wait, hopefully the chapter's length helps a little. There was just so much I wanted to include before the specific point I wanted to end on.
Sometimes I find writing this story a little odd because I have gone over it all so much in my head it already feels like it's been written. Does that make sense? Possibly. Possibly not.
Hope you are all well.
Review responses (oldest to newest)
(Couple of guest reviews, I'll say Guest 1, 2, 3 etc for differentiating purposes.)
ProcrastinationIsMyCrime: Friendly Morgana makes an appearance every now and then, but I'm having a lot of fun writing BAMF!Morgana. Summer almost got cool, but then it got hot again. Did a bit of a 'Psyche!' to all of us hopeful Aussies.
Guest 1: Arthur can certainly be idiotic and arrogant, but I believe there is a lot of good in him as well. Course, the definition between being 'idiotic' and 'an idiot' isn't much, but it's something.
Guest 2: Keep in mind that the last time Merlin was in the druid camp he was being questioned about his involvement of the death of one of the druids. He admitted to making the wrong choice in that situation. He is very human, and so just as capable of making bad decisions of Uther, and the laws in Camelot based on Uther's bad decisions are what created this whole mess.
Guest 3: This story began with a woman dying because Merlin made the wrong decision. After realizing what he had done, Merlin realized that even when he had the best of intentions he did the wrong thing. Hence the Merlin of this story is living painfully aware of the consequences of his own fallibility, so it makes sense that he would seek as much advise as possible on actions that will have repercussions on all of Camelot. In saying that, he didn't ask for the druids permission. He was ready to listen to their advice, and if they had voiced a strong argument against his choice it would've been in character for him to listen, but he was telling them about his decision, not asking. And it is a lot easier for Arthur to tell himself Merlin is ignorant then to confront the uncomfortable truths he is saying.
Resh Prak: Thanks. I agree that the seasons missed a lot of opportunity. There could have been so many different 'stages,' Merlin's secret, then Merlin telling Arthur, them finding a way to be friends again then there adventures with Arthur knowing about his magic! It seems very odd that so much potential was wasted. In regards to your question about Merlin being OOC, Guest 3 asked a similar question. My response is above. However, in summary what I said was that this story started with a very dramatic event and the Merlin in this story is still living with the knowledge of that event. It would have been more out of character for Merlin to go untouched by the realization that he wrongly let a woman die then for him to feature some behavioral changes. One such change that I felt was realistic was that he would question himself a lot more, and with him making a huge choice to defy destiny after making the wrong choice to not save the druid woman he would understandably be second and triple guessing all of his decisions.
Guest 4: Thank you. I think one of Merlin's greatest gifts is not so much his power, but his reasoning and understanding of power. Of course his magic gave him the ability to protect Arthur, which will be important once Arthur learns about Merlin's magic, but his choice, not his ability, is the significant thing. I agree that Arthur's treatment of Merlin was irritating. They were supposed to have this incredible friendship, but Arthur kept up a tirade of petty cruelties, which is hardly friendship at all. One of Arthur's main problems is that he doesn't think. Learning about Merlin's magic will no doubt be a shock, but at the very least it will shock him into thinking.
And now, onto part IV.
Enjoy.
The Man Who Could Never Go Home
Part IV: Ultimatum
"I really don't think you should be doing this," Gaius said, standing between Merlin and the front door of their quarters.
"I know," Merlin replied. He'd started out sympathetic with Gaius' worries, but now his tolerance was wearing thin. The idea of finally telling Arthur his secret was frightening enough for him without Gaius' added barrage of anxiety. "I heard you the fifty second time."
"But…timing Merlin, please just wait for better timing. Wait until…until a good druid save a knights life again…or when Arthur sees another unicorn or magical cure…just wait!"
Gaius had actually raised his arms to bar Merlin's way. Merlin leaned back on his heels. He was hardly going to push past Gaius, especially when he was just trying to help, albeit in an annoying fashion.
"People are dying now, Gaius, I don't have the luxury of waiting. If I keep delaying telling Arthur I'll never tell him," Merlin said. "And anyway, I told you about the conversation I had with him yesterday. He was listening to me. Now is my best chance."
"He threw you in the dungeons!" Gaius cried.
"Five days ago!" Merlin insisted, though he realized that distinction may not mean much to Gaius. Gaius opened his mouth to say something and Merlin raised his hands in truce, interrupting the conversations descent into a shouting match.
"Look, look, I'm not even planning to tell him today. I'm going to ask him to take me hunting, just me, and then tell him in the forest. We won't even be able to go out today; he's got that court thing."
Gaius still looked very anxious and was wringing his hands but he didn't argue.
"Trust me Gaius," Merlin said reassuring, stepping forward and putting his hand on Gaius' shoulder, "I have no interest in dying anytime soon."
Gaius sighed. The sigh was bumpy and short with breathless fear.
"And In the interests of not dying," Merlin continued, smiling reassuringly, "I should probably go. Arthur's always in a better mood when his breakfast is on time, and I want him in as good a mood as he can be."
"Okay," Gaius said with a small, helpless shrug. "I'll spend the morning making headache cures."
Today was one of the days Gaius usually went to the lower town market for supplies, but Merlin knew Gaius' wanted to be close by.
Just in case.
"Thank you," Merlin said.
Gaius stepped away from the door.
"That's alright, my boy."
Something thumped hard against Arthur's door. There was a muffled voice then another bump. Another. Then a metallic crash and an outbreak of furious muttering.
Arthur opened his eyes.
He was lying on his stomach with his arms shoved beneath his pillow. He'd been dreaming about Gwen, though as he woke the details of the dream became fuzzy. There'd been a meadow...the trees had been purple…or had that been the mountains?
The door handle scraped and Merlin entered the room, his steps were short and his breath sounded impatient. As well as the platter in his hands he had lumps of bed sheets tucked beneath both arms. Arthur rolled onto his back nonchalantly and watched Merlin carrying his breakfast across the room. The goblet was tipped on its side and red wine dripped from the platter, leaving a trail of red dots on the stone floor.
"The door giving you trouble?" Arthur asked with a casual sort of innocence.
"The door is fine, it's the five hundred things I have to carry that are the problem," Merlin said, shoving Arthur's breakfast from his arms onto the table and accidentally dropping one of the carefully folded sheets onto the floor.
"If you didn't try to carry everything at once-" Arthur began, enjoying ribbing Merlin.
"Then I'd have to go for the sheets later," Merlin said, as though this were the most foolish wastage of time conceivable.
Arthur rolled his eyes.
Life was finally returning to normal. Merlin seemed to have gleaned some unfathomable satisfaction from their discussion over yesterday's breakfast and had since been behaving in his usual, jovial way. Maybe it was because Arthur had forced himself to listen to Merlin for once. He hadn't agreed with much of what Merlin had said, but it seemed that the act of listening had been enough. Arthur made a mental note to remember that.
"You always complain about your food being cold but then when I do actually bring it up on time you just lie in bed for half an hour," Merlin said. He'd set up Arthur's breakfast and had since taken up look at Arthur reproachfully.
"You could always give me breakfast in bed," Arthur said lazily.
"I could," Merlin said, narrowing his eyes, "though it would be a shame if I accidentally spilt hot coffee on your lap."
Arthur sat up.
"You wouldn't dare," he said back.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare," now that Arthur was sitting up Merlin moved to open the curtains. "The laws of physics, on the other hand…"
Arthur grumbled a loud, wordless noise of protest and threw back the covers. Standing he arched his back, muscles stretching and various bones clicking into place. Then with a yawn he padded barefoot to his table and sat down.
Behind him Merlin proceeded along the wall pulling back the deep red curtains. Sunlight flooded in and the room woke up.
"When do you next have a few hours free?" Merlin asked from the far end of the room.
"Ah," Arthur scrubbed his hair with one hand as his brain groaned into gear. "Don't know. Why?"
"I was thinking," Merlin's voice was suspiciously casual, "maybe you and I could go hunting sometime?"
"What?" Arthur said, lowering the roll he'd been about to bite from his face. He looked around at Merlin.
Merlin walked back up the room and passed Arthur, picking up the new bed sheets as he did.
"Well, I was thinking you and I could go out hunting. You know…fresh air and stuff."
"Merlin, you have never wanted to hunting once in your life. Ever."
"Well we don't have to actually catch anything, just…go out into the forest," Merlin said, yanking the bedcovers off Arthur's bed.
"But…why?" Arthur asked.
"You haven't been out of the castle in a while, it would be nice," Merlin shrugged innocently.
"Uh-huh," Arthur said, watching Merlin.
It probably would be nice, actually, just him and Merlin. Hunts were a lot of fun and Arthur didn't mind going on the occasional patrol but he was always surrounded by his knights and soldiers then. It was the same in the castle. Even when nobody was watching him he was being noticed. He was always The Prince, never Arthur. As though being Arthur wasn't enough.
Not with Merlin though. Merlin accepted Arthur for who he was, not what he was. Arthur kept forgetting how big a difference that made.
Merlin was folding the sheets in his own, unique way that resembled actual folding very little. He put the small mounds of cloth at the foot of the bed with a self-satisfied expression.
"Okay," Arthur said.
Merlin looked up and blinked in the sunlight.
"Yes? We'll go?"
"Yes," Arthur bit into his roll then shoveled some cooked egg into his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and spoke again. "I'm busy today and tomorrow, but the next day I think I can put together an hour or two."
"Good, good," Merlin said. He ground his palms against each other without seeming to realize what he was doing, eyes unfocusing from Arthur and getting lost somewhere in the middle distance.
"Now that's sorted, I need my ceremonial robes," Arthur gestured with a fork at his wardrobe. "The red ones, not the blue ones. I don't want to look ridiculous."
"Fighting a losing battle there, your most royal of highnesses," Merlin quipped, striding across to the indicated wardrobe.
"I'll put you in the ceremonial servant's uniform," Arthur threatened. "Don't think I won't!"
Merlin gave Arthur a peeved look at the mention of the robes he detested so much.
Arthur grinned.
The corridors around the Courtroom were lavish and overly grand; blood red carpet and polished walls, tapestries worth more gold then some villages and the likenesses of nobility long since past carved from stone and lining the hallway. Having refused adamantly, possibly excessively, to wear the ceremonial servants robes Merlin looked distinctly out of place.
Gwen looked much less out of place then he; she wore a neat blue dress and her curly hair was brushed back from her face. However Merlin could see creases on the sleeves of her dress from where she would roll the sleeves back to scrub floors.
They had both been serving in the Courtroom and, having finished first, Gwen was waiting outside for him. At one point as they had passed each other whilst doing their duties Merlin had asked her to wait for him outside. Their shifts ended at the same time, though Merlin did seem to perpetually trail five minutes behind schedule, and he wanted to talk to Gwen afterwards. Though he was going to see Morgana after his Courtroom duties he already knew where she was, and wasn't intending to ask Gwen about her. Almost all of the conversations Merlin had been having recently were heavy or significant or laden with double meaning. It was exhausting and he was beginning to feel the strain, especially after talking to Arthur that morning.
Gwen had a small lunch break after her Courtroom duties and Merlin knew she habitually spent this in the kitchens talking to her other servant friends whilst they were still on duty. From the Courtroom the walk to Morgana's room and the kitchen's was the same for a few minutes, giving them a chance to catch up before going their separate ways.
"Hi Merlin," Gwen said pleasantly and they fell into step together, walking side by side down the hallway of stone heads.
"I'm tempted to put my neckerchief of one of them and see what people do," Merlin whispered conspiratorially to Gwen as they passed a particularly grumpy looking piece. Gwen laughed quietly.
"Everyone would know it was you. You're the only one who wears those things."
"Yeah, that or because as soon as Arthur heard about it he would be all," Merlin raised his fists and whispered a yell of, "MERLIN!"
Gwen laughed again.
"I do hear that occasionally," she admitted.
"I hope throughout the castle whenever people hear that they take a moment of silence for persecuted Merlin's everywhere," Merlin said, putting his hand to his heart emotionally, thoroughly enjoying dramatizing his plight.
"Well, we do take a moment to be grateful we are not a Merlin," Gwen said, eyes twinkling.
Merlin pretended to consider this for a moment then shrugged.
"Close enough."
Gwen and Merlin parted company the floor below Morgana's room. The corridors were quite busy late-morning so Merlin walked up the steps and along the corridor to Morgana's rooms with long strides, though not too quickly. It was the well-practiced gait of somebody who was hiding something. His long stride spoke of purpose yet was unhurried, normal for a servant who was used to conserving energy for a long day's work.
There were two male servants dusting the rooms along Morgana's corridor so when Merlin got to her door he knocked then stood with his head dutifully lowered, awaiting orders.
"Come in," Morgana called, sounding imperious.
Merlin slid through the door and closed it quietly behind him. Whilst it would be improper for a nobleman to be alone in a room with Morgana it was not so with Merlin. The castle generally did not see servants as men or women, they were just servants.
"Merlin, hello," Morgana said softly when the door closed with a soft snap.
She was sitting at her table which was piled high with books. Another table had been dragged from the other side of the room to stand beside the first; it was also heavily laden.
"Doing some light reading?" Merlin asked in mild alarm as he stepped around a few random books lying open on the floor.
"These are books on politics," Morgana said, gesturing with widespread fingers at the first table. "And these are books on history," she pointed at the second table. "There are a few independent books here and there, but this is basically everything I could find that mentions druids, druidic culture and the history of Camelot's politics."
She nodded to herself and Merlin moved to her side, looking down over her shoulder as she opened a book balancing on the closest edge of the table.
"That is, everything I could find that wouldn't make the King suspicious should he learn that I am reading them," Morgana added, a slight curl to her lip like a dog with its hackles rising.
"Why are you reading all this?" Merlin asked, compulsively checking that the closed door really was closed.
Morgana frowned and leaned back. Taking the chair from the other side of the tables Merlin dragged it around so that he could see around the book mountains. As he sat down he sent a feeler of magic to the door. Morgana felt him do so and her eyes jerked into focus.
"The door handle will jam for a moment if someone tries to come in," Merlin said. It would give him time to start pretending to clean.
"You didn't say anything," Morgana observed.
"No. I don't need to most of the time, unless it's for a very complex or powerful spell."
"Is that-" Morgana stopped herself but Merlin had already seen the shape of the next word on her tongue.
"Normal? Not really," he said it with determined nonchalance. He was, perhaps, a little too nonchalant, because after a moment of looking at him keenly Morgana changed the subject.
"I'm reading this," she said, spreading her hands again to gesture broadly at the dozens of books before her, "to learn as much as I can about druids and Camelot before the Purge."
"Why?" Merlin tipped a book toward him and read the gold-print title. Royal Bloodlines and Laws and Rules of Inheritance. It sounded fascinating.
Morgana tapped a nail against the arm of her chair for a moment.
"The druid's council," she said.
"What about it?"
"The druids don't have a leader. Not like Camelot. They don't have a King or a Queen; they have a group of people. I was researching how the functioning of a druid council and it's…broader applicability."
"Broader applicability?" Merlin said slowly, "Do you mean Camelot?"
"Yes. Whether or not Arthur is on our side, if we are serious about causing actual, lasting change, we have to consider the future."
"What do you mean?"
"Say Arthur is on our side," Morgana began, making Merlin's stomach clench a little. "He becomes King; magic is legalized, happily ever after. Only it's not, because what if he has a son or daughter who becomes King or Queen, and they turn out to be another Uther?"
It was the first time Merlin had heard Morgana call Uther by his name.
"Arthur wouldn't let that happen," Merlin said automatically.
"Arthur wouldn't much say in it," Morgana pulled a large grey book out from under three others. Merlin caught them before they could fall from the table.
Tracing her finger down and across the page Morgana said, "You wouldn't believe how many sons and daughters have rescinded laws made when their parents were the ruling royalty. King William signed a Peace Treaty with what is now Cenred's King, but the moment his son Albert the Antagonizer became King he invaded. King Elliot started a kind of financial scheme for supporting or finding employment for the disabled, either soldiers injured in battle or people born that way, but then his daughter Queen Maria overturned it saying it was a waste of the Crown's money."
"What are you saying?" Merlin said, suspecting he knew but not quite believing it.
Morgana looked at him very seriously.
"Changing the laws for magic beneath one ruler makes no guarantee they won't be rescinded or changed in the future. To make Camelot safe for magic users we have to change the way it is governed."
As Morgana looked at him she had this look in her eye, this here-is-a-mountain-I-must-climb look.
"Morgana, fighting for equal rights for magic users is right; it's the moral thing to do. But fundamentally changing how Camelot is run? Because it would suit us?" Merlin raised one hand to gesture at that of Camelot they could see through the window. "It wouldn't just affect us, it would affect everybody. We have a right to defend ourselves and seek justice, but what right do we have to turn everybody's lives on their heads?"
"I don't suggest this on a whim, Merlin," Morgana said sharply, leaning forward. "I suggest this because there is no other choice."
"There are always choices," Merlin shot back.
"Okay, there are no other right choices. Inherited is flawed, surely you must see that? You're the one who keeps telling Arthur that just because he is royalty does not mean he is worth more or has more value then somebody born a peasant. The same reasoning applies here. What makes somebody born a Prince more likely to make good decisions then somebody not born a Prince? Why would nobility, who are born and raised surrounded by nobility, care about, or even understand, the problems of the lesser classes?" Morgana demanded.
"You care," Merlin pointed out. "You could rule Camelot."
He'd expected this proposition to surprise Morgana but she just shook her head like she had already considered it.
"You could," Merlin insisted. "You don't hate magic or magic users and you understand about the problems of the lower classes. You're probably one of the most knowledgeable people in Camelot in regards to laws and politics and you care about what's right and what's wrong."
"I won't deny that I have considered it," Morgana said. "But the problem of future rulers changing any laws I make remains."
"You would teach them that magic isn't evil."
"What do you think Uther was taught? He grew up in a Camelot where magic was free, he reaped its benefits. And still, the Purge happened. No, me being Queen is not the solution."
Morgana looked out the window thoughtfully. Merlin knew that a noble who didn't leap at the chance of power at the first opportunity they got was a good person to have on his side, but he still felt uneasy. Changing the rule of Camelot would be a massive undertaking and he couldn't imagine that it would happen without bloodshed. Whilst he understood the issue of magic and knew that indiscriminately killing those who had it was wrong the matter of Camelot's politics was not so clear cut to him. It felt too much like it hinged on personal opinion, much as the Purge had.
"Look," Morgana said, seeing the wariness on his face, "I'm not saying we do anything immediately. We need to talk to learn more about it and talk to more people. This isn't something to be contemplated lightly or done in haste. But the sooner we start thinking about it, the sooner we can decide what we are going to do."
"Hm," Merlin said. He thought Morgana was just saying what she thought would placate him but her words were carefully chosen and he couldn't see a way to argue. He could hardly say that they shouldn't contemplate it at all, for that was as close-minded as Uther refusing to consider that magic may not be evil.
Not seeing a way to break this impasse Merlin changed the subject, saying what he had originally come here to say.
"Arthur and me are going out on a hunt in two days."
Morgana looked curious but hadn't caught his meaning.
"Just Arthur and me," Merlin clarified significantly.
Understanding dawned on Morgana's face. She leaned forward.
"You're going to…?" She said, hushed.
"Yes," Merlin said firmly.
For the first time Morgana had unveiled concern on her face, unmarred by suspicion or calculation. It made her look young and surprisingly unlike herself.
"Merlin, I know you have a lot of faith in Arthur, and I'm not saying I don't think he is a good man, but…"
"Am I sure he's not going to turn me over to the King?" Merlin interrupted.
Morgana's face screwed up painfully.
"No," she said, sounding brittle and sad. "Are you sure he's not going to run you through himself?"
Merlin jutted out his chin stubbornly.
"I don't think Arthur will hurt me."
"Merlin, Arthur's been taught to kill sorcerers since birth. I love him, he may as well be a brother to me, but he is Uther's son."
Merlin noted for a second time that Morgana called Uther by his name. It struck him that since learning of her own magic Morgana must have embarked on a personal campaign to identify as Uther's ward, as opposed to a daughter or adopted daughter of any sort.
"Arthur isn't Uther," Merlin said. "He helped the druid boy, he cares for Gwen. He is not his father."
If people were defined by their father's Merlin would be nameless.
"I don't want you to get hurt, Merlin."
By the sound of her voice she wasn't just talking about physical harm.
"Neither do I, but I am going to do this. I won't start anything without giving Arthur a chance. We're friends, I owe that to him," Merlin said with an air of finality.
Morgana looked at him closely for a long moment; Merlin could see her eyes flicking from his right eye to his left and back again. Then, after her face had grown tired with whatever she had seen, she sighed and looked away.
"I can see I am not going to change your mind," she said.
"No," Merlin said needlessly.
"Would you like me to come?"
Merlin didn't understand.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want me to come with you when you tell Arthur about your magic? I'm sure we could fabricate a reason I was joining you or I could follow along behind."
Morgana tapped a long nail on the page of her open book, probably already thinking of the means to do this.
For a moment Merlin couldn't speak. He remembered, instantly and completely, Gaius offering the exact same thing when Merlin had declared he was going to tell Morgana of his magic.
Merlin had always felt so alone that he had missed the moment when people started rallying behind him, rising to guard his back not for any personal gain or because they had to but merely because they thought it needed guarding.
It made him feel strange. It was like someone had struck him in the chest not in any attempt to hurt him but in an attempt to restart his heart.
"No," he said, voice thin. "No, Morgana…I…this is something I have to do on my own. But…thank you."
He knew what Morgana had offered. She had offered to take a risk after a lifetime of tiptoeing on glass. He appreciated the gesture more than he knew how to say.
Morgana pulled one corner of her mouth up into a defeated sort of smirk and nodded like she'd known Merlin was going to say that all along.
As he went about his usual duties for the rest of the day Merlin was surprised that he didn't feel more nervous. He was anxious about what would happen, what he was going to say and how Arthur was going to react, but he was also excited. He'd wanted to tell Arthur for so long and now he was finally going to. His secret, his grand deception, was finally going to be over. No matter what happened he was going to be able to truly look Arthur in the eye for the first time.
Of course Arthur might hate him. Despite what Merlin had said to Morgana he was aware of the very real possibility that Arthur might respond to Merlin's confession violently.
But he might not.
He knew the chance was small and minute and that he should preparing himself for the worst, but as Merlin served Arthur his dinner and they traded humorous quips and insults he couldn't imagine a world where he and Arthur were not friends.
Merlin's confidence lasted all of the rest of the day and when he went to sleep, all the way up until he woke the next morning, the day before he told Arthur everything. But then, as he jerked awake, slamming into consciousness, Merlin discovered that all of the previous day's surety had abandoned him. It had been replaced by panic. Raw panic.
Tomorrow? Tomorrow? What had he been thinking? Arthur wasn't ready, he wasn't ready! Tomorrow was way, way too early to tell Arthur, it was going to ruin everything.
Merlin scrambled upright too quickly, making his knees unstable and black spots dance across his vision. He swayed on his feet for a second until the black subsided and he could walk without falling.
The yellow sunlight that was soft and high upon his wall told Merlin that he had woken earlier than usual. Normally he got up when the morning bells chimed but fear had risen from his subconscious and cut his sleep short this morning.
Merlin dressed in a whirlwind; it took him three tries to get his shirt on and he almost forgot his boots. When he finally made it into his and Gaius' small kitchen he couldn't bring himself to make breakfast. The concept of eating food seemed foreign and strange, so he settled for making a mug of tea that he didn't end up drinking.
Gaius was still asleep in his cot in front of the dormant fireplace. Camelot was in the tail end of a warm Spring and they hadn't needed a fire to keep warm for some months. After warming his shaky hands on his mug for a few minutes Merlin crept out of the room before he woke his adopted uncle. He didn't know if he would be able to handle Gaius' worry today, or even Gaius' courage.
Camelot never truly slept and there were a few people already walking the castle's corridors. As Merlin had only ever been moving around this castle sporadically before he didn't know many of the faces he saw. Some of them knew him because of his role's proximity to the Prince, but not enough to greet him. Merlin was thankful of this. He was trying to calm himself down and find a way to work around his fear and it was taking all of his attention.
However Merlin knew the servants he usually worked with would be appearing soon so he wanted to avoid his usual places. He went to the stables. Not his usual stables, where Arthur's and other nobilities horses were kept, the stables where the knights horses were kept. Though they did not know him Merlin was welcomed, provided he did some mucking out. The staff of the knights' stables were well known for being welcoming to anyone willing lend a hand; there were quite a lot of horses.
Merlin mucked out stall after stall. It was a good job despite the smell. It didn't require too much thought and was just strenuous enough for Merlin to focus on the pull and strain of his arms, shoulders and back. This combined with the sleepy noises of the horses and their musky, dusty smell, allowed Merlin to work through his terror. He found himself on the other side of it, mind no longer catatonic.
He was still afraid, he had little choice over that, but he could be brave as well.
Though far from enjoyable, Merlin's day was tolerable. He took Arthur his breakfast and was able to behave relatively normal. He took extra special care to spill greasy bacon on Arthur's face as the Prince lounged in bed, eyes closed. Arthur yelled and failed and nearly overturned the platter in Merlin's hands, then spent the rest of the morning grumbling irritated asides about Merlin and the role the stocks would play in his future. It was easy for Merlin to play at fake innocence and friendly mockery, the hard, snide tone of voice he could use was at no risk of betraying him by breaking or wobbling.
When Arthur left for training with the knights Merlin allowed himself a few minutes just sitting on the floor in the middle of Arthur's room. He felt a little silly but couldn't deny the comfort just sitting there surrounded by Arthur's things gave him. Not knowing if he'd ever get a chance to do it again Merlin appreciated it while he could.
Arthur took lunch with his knights so it wasn't until dinnertime that Merlin got to see him again. He wasn't sure if he was glad that he hadn't spent the day with Arthur or unhappy that he might have missed his last chance at spending a day in Arthur's friendship. Even though it had been out of his control Merlin wondered if he would regret it.
Dinner was a quiet affair, Arthur being tired from his long day working hard in full armour beneath a bright sun. He still made a few comments deriding Merlin in general but Merlin could see his attention was on going to bed. Arthur dismissed him early and Merlin, wondering if he was being cowardly in doing so, left.
He was just so anxious. He wanted to sit with Arthur and talk, throw banter back and forth and making each other laugh, but he was sick with the idea of tomorrow. The knowledge that, come what may, it would all be over in less than a day felt like both a comfort and a curse.
Gaius had prepared Merlin's favorite meal, a simple dish of cooked vegetables with herbs and a fresh loaf of bread spread with some of their small supply of butter. Having skipped both breakfast and lunch Merlin found that he could eat dinner, though he knew he would've enjoyed it more if it hadn't felt so much like the last meal of a prisoner on death row. When Merlin had finished eating Gaius insisted he go to bed, he said Merlin would need his energy for his 'Big Day.' It made it sound like tomorrow was his birthday. Though he didn't feel remotely like sleeping he didn't feel like arguing either, so Merlin went to his room and closed the door. He then sat with his back rested against it like he had after the druid woman had been executed and listened to the muffled sounds of Gaius cleaning up and getting ready for bed himself.
Merlin kept intending to get up; after all, he really did need his sleep for his 'Big Day.' He just seemed unable to get around to it. It was just easier to sit there, head resting back against the wood of his door, watching the sky slowly losing its light through his small window. It went from light blue through a series of yellows and oranges and reds and purples until it had returned to blue again, a much darker shade. Beautiful though, for all its darkness. There might have been clouds elsewhere but through Merlin's window there was only the night sky and shining stars. It was whilst he was watching these stars and thinking how infinitesimally small they all were in comparison that Merlin realized there was one more thing he had to do.
He opened his door extremely slowly and peered out. Gaius was asleep in his cot, Merlin could hear him snoring. Creeping across the room Merlin slipped out into the hallway. The castle at night was lit by oil lamps. Even Merlin, who was so familiar with the stone corridors, needed them. Familiar places had a habit of changing at nighttime, becoming not so familiar.
There were a few servants about and a few guards patrolling, but Merlin just took on his purposeful-manservant walk and nobody bothered him.
When he got to Morgana's room for the second time that day the corridor was deserted. Merlin pressed his ear against door, listening carefully. If Gwen was with Morgana it could make for some very awkward questions. But he heard nothing from Morgana's room, so he carefully opened the door and stepped inside.
"Morgana," he called softly, conscious of the fact that Morgana was adept at knife throwing. "Morgana, its Merlin."
He moved away from the door to the right in the direction her knew her bed was. The curtains were drawn and the room was the colour of bruises, he could barely see a thing.
"Morgana," he said, a little louder. "Wake up. I really don't want to startle you and get an axe to the face."
He tiptoed a little closer. As his eyes adjusted he started to make out Morgana's white blanket.
"Not that axes to the head aren't great but-"
Fire exploded beside Morgana's bed, two pillars roaring from the stone to the ceiling. Merlin staggered backwards with his arms raised before him.
"Morgana!"
Morgana was sitting bolt upright, hair flying in the wind of the flames beside her.
"The letter," she gasped, eyes wide and fixing on Merlin. Her irises were blazing gold.
"Morgana!" Merlin said again and stepped hesitantly forward. He had realized the fires had no heat, nor was Morgana's bed burning.
"Merlin," she said, tears streaming from her eyes, seemingly incoherent with grief. "The letter."
"I'm Merlin, Morgana it's okay, it's me. You're having a nightmare," Merlin hurried forward. A golden shield appeared between Morgana and the fires, then between the fires and him. Morgana startled back as Merlin's eyes flared gold and her runaway magic stuttered for a moment.
"It's okay," Merlin said again. He stepped over to Morgana as the fires fell away, leaving them in darkness. Yellow and red blotches clouded Merlin's vision.
"Merlin?" Morgana said dazedly.
"Sh," Merlin said and Morgana stopped moving. Turning his head Merlin listened with all of his might for sounds of alarm. Had anybody heard them? Was somebody coming?
"My closet," Morgana said hoarsely, hurriedly wiping away her tears.
"What?" Merlin's head whipped around, though he was still blinded.
"My closet, to your right. Get in it, go!"
Jumping away from her Merlin held his hands out before him. They banged into the closet and after a second wrestling with the latch he climbed in. Unlike in Morgana's room the darkness in the closet was absolute. Merlin's world was reduced to his panting breath and deafening heartbeat.
It would be just his luck to get caught in Morgana's rooms in the middle of the night hours before he intended to come out as a sorcerer. Of all the ways he had contemplated he might die, being executed after being falsely accused of assaulting the King's ward had never been one of them.
Trying to breathe as quietly as he could Merlin pressed his forehead against the closed closet door and waited.
After long enough that Merlin's pulse had time to slow he heard Morgana calling him and pushed out of the closet. His magic helped him unlatch the door, which did not have a handle on the inside.
"No one heard?" He asked.
"There's a reason I chose a room far away from the main corridors," Morgana said in way of response. She was out of bed and had pulled a long coat on over her nightgown.
"Why are you here? What's happened?" She asked, but Merlin was distracted.
"You said…something about a letter…" he said slowly.
"What?"
"When I came in and you woke up you'd been having a nightmare. A vision, I guess. You said my name, and then 'the letter.'"
"Did I?" Morgana looked honestly confused. "I don't remember that."
Merlin chewed on his lip. Whilst he no longer believed scrying and visions of the future controlled his destiny, he didn't deny that he thought the arts had some merit. Just because he no longer saw these visions as commands did not mean they could not give him advice.
"Merlin, the letter," he muttered to himself. He didn't know what it meant. What letter? Was it in relation to him, or had Morgana been saying his name because she had been looking at him?
"Sorry," Morgana said.
"No, it's alright," Merlin replied.
"Why are you here? Is it about Arthur?"
"What?" Merlin looked up, distracted from his musings. "Oh, yes. I mean, sort of. You know how I took you to meet the druids?"
"Yes."
"Well, I remembered that there's somebody I forgot to introduce you to."
And by somebody, he meant something.
"Kilgarrah, The Great Dragon," Merlin said, gesturing needlessly at Kilgarrah with the torch he held in his hand.
Kilgarrah shifted his enormous body on his outcrop of rock. His vertical pupils were narrow and fixated on Morgana.
After a moment of tense silence Morgana said in a strained voice, "Good evening."
Kilgarrah chuckled in a mocking fashion and leaned forward to see her better.
"Good evening to you as well, Morgana, Witch of Camelot," he said in a voice both grating and oily.
Morgana glanced at Merlin in alarm.
"It's okay, he knew about me too," Merlin said.
Kilgarrah snorted irritably and Merlin fell silent. The dragon was so big most of his body was lost in the cave's darkness, but many of his scales caught fragments of the firelight. He looked like sparks flying above a bonfire.
"You have turned off destinies narrow road," Kilgarrah said to Morgana. "You walking a winding road, where before you were fixed on a straight road, going down."
"What do you mean by that?" Morgana asked bravely.
Kilgarrah swung his head, claws scraping as his weight shifted.
"I mean," he growled, "I can no longer see the future in which you became corrupted and tried to tear down Camelot."
It felt like the bottom had dropped out of Merlin's stomach.
"What?" Morgana said, sounding like she had just taken a blow she hadn't seen coming.
"You still may turn to the Dark Side," Kilgarrah said thoughtfully, "though perhaps this time it will not be because Merlin tries to murder you."
"What?" Morgana responded too quickly and Kilgarrah grinned wickedly.
Merlin was absolutely motionless, he didn't even breathe. What? Him? Murder Morgana? He would never…no situation could ever have made him do that!
"But that's by and by," Kilgarrah said, evidently pleased with the tension between the two humans, "let us talk of now."
Morgana and Merlin looked at each other, both unsure of what they were looking for and fearful of what they might see.
"You have been turning hard, to avert your fate," Kilgarrah said to Merlin. "I warned you not to. I warned you this would end badly."
"It hasn't ended badly yet," Merlin said, tearing his eyes away from Morgana.
Kilgarrah bared his teeth. "Yet."
Merlin glared at the dragon. Kilgarrah could be helpful when he wanted to be, but when he wasn't getting what he wanted he was a sideward, slippery creature. He was like a sword, capable of both causing them great good and great harm.
"I'm telling Arthur tomorrow," Merlin said defiantly; Kilgarrah's eyes glittered. "Nothing you say is going to change my mind, but I wanted to introduce Morgana to you just in case something goes wrong."
Morgana was still watching Merlin, he could see her face out of the corner of his eye.
"You are Emrys," Kilgarrah said, lingering on the word with a hiss. "The Prince cannot hurt you unless you choose it."
"It's just a precaution," Merlin said stubbornly.
Kilgarrah pulled his head back and flicked out his long, forked tongue in distaste.
"Very well," he said, settling back onto his haunches. "Far be it from me to advise you do not seek to have your head cut off. You are evidently confident of your wisdom in this fool's venture."
"Yes, well," Merlin said with a hesitant glance at Morgana. "We should probably be getting back."
"Do not think your starry eyes will save you," Kilgarrah said. His low voice echoed off the walls and rumbled through the floor. "You are the both of you forgetting that to return magic to Camelot the King will have to die."
Merlin looked back. Morgana squared her shoulders and looked up at the dragon.
"Can you, Morgana, Witch of Camelot, murder the man who has been like a father to you?" Kilgarrah growled.
Because he stood not a meter from her Merlin could hear the shakiness of Morgana's breath. However when she spoke her voice was loud and clear and hard.
"You're asking the wrong question, dragon."
Kilgarrah raised the ridges above his eyes in an expression of mock surprise.
"It is not a question of whether I am willing to kill the King," Morgana said. "It is a question of whether I am willing to let the King continue killing innocent people."
Without waiting for a response Morgana whirled on the spot and strode up the stone pathway to the cave's small door. Merlin waited a moment to watch Kilgarrah's reaction. The dragon did not speak but he did crouch low on his rock, eyes following Morgana with a keen and cunning interest. Merlin turned away uneasily and followed Morgana's path up the steps, leaving Kilgarrah alone in his darkness.
Just out of sight of the doorway Morgana was waiting for Merlin. The corridors were unlit here and Merlin carried the only torch. Morgana could have lit her way with magic but the risk was too great even in these seldom used passages. When Merlin appeared in the corridor she walked along beside him silently.
After a few moments of climbing the meandering hallways Merlin broke the silence.
"I know he seemed hostile, but he can be trusted. He's helped me save Arthur's life dozens of times in the past. I think he's just angry at me at the moment because I've stopped following destiny and his grand plan, but he won't stop us. He knows that if magic is freed so is he, once he gets over his ego he'll help us."
Morgana didn't reply. Merlin chewed on his bottom lip. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and he reached out, putting his hand on Morgana's shoulder and stopping her furious marching.
"Look, Morgana…about what Kilgarrah said about me…" He couldn't quite manage the words 'killing you.' "I don't know why he said that, I wouldn't hurt you. We're friends and…I don't know, he's tricky. He can twist things."
Morgana's face was carefully blank as Merlin spoke. The fire light made her cheekbones stand out with shadows straight as razors and behind the reflected firelight the colour of her irises was difficult to discern, making them look black as her pupils.
"I know you only told me about your magic because you felt you had no choice," Morgana eventually responded. "Without the right circumstance you may never have told me. I know I am convenient for you; I am a noble with magic. I am a great asset to the cause. I don't blame you, I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. I won't deny that what he said gave me a bad shock but I do not blame you for that either. You haven't killed me and I of all people know how unreliable and easy to misinterpret visions of the future are. In saying that, he seemed the sort to use the truth when he thought it would suit him, and there are grains of truth in scrying. So whilst I don't blame you I am going to need a little time."
Merlin nodded. It hurt, but it did not hurt as much as Kilgarrah's words did. Morgana was right in her assessment of Kilgarrah as one who would use the truth if he thought it suited his purposes.
Merlin was angry and frustrated with Kilgarrah. He had done what Kilgarrah had told him to for years and the moment he started thinking for himself the dragon reacted with scorn and antagonism. It didn't even make sense, what Merlin was doing would likely result in Kilgarrah's release much earlier than if he had followed his 'destiny.'
That dragon was impossible.
Merlin shook his head to himself. It didn't matter at the moment. He'd introduced Kilgarrah and Morgana just in case something went wrong tomorrow, or today, he was unsure of the hour. It didn't make sense to worry about Kilgarrah now. He should start preparing himself for the trial ahead.
When they got back to the main corridors, identifiable by their polished stone and decorative tapestries, Merlin doused his torch with magic and put it in the first oversized vase he passed.
"You should go back to Gaius'," Morgana said when Merlin stepped away from the vase, wiping his hands on his shirt.
"Yeah," he said.
"You probably won't see me before…tomorrow…" Morgana said. "And I want you to know that I stand by what I said before, but if you need me at all I'll be ready. If it goes badly, if you need anything, let me know. I can talk to Arthur and make him see sense, or I can get you out of prison and smuggle you out of the city."
"Thank you," Merlin replied.
"You've been taking 'precautions,' introducing me to the druids and Kilgarrah, but don't think that makes you expendable, Merlin," Morgana's voice was emphatic and Merlin could see that despite what had happened that night, she was concerned for him.
"I don't," he reassured her. "Don't worry, it will be okay."
He wasn't sure he believed what he had said, but he had had to say it all the same.
This was a great idea, Arthur thought as he swayed with his white horse's footsteps, breathing in the fresh Spring air. Yes, this was a rare instance in which Merlin came up with a great idea.
The genius in question was slightly behind him. He was not a very good rider and so always ended up on the more amiable horses that for some reason were generally slow. Merlin had been very quiet that morning. They had made an early start and Merlin had rather pronounced bags under his eyes; he'd never been a morning person. Arthur was still waiting for him to wake up enough to have a decent conversation. Until he did though, Arthur was enjoying a relaxing, purposeless ride for once. His hunting gear rattled against Merlin's saddlebags but it was more there for show, nobody was going to ask the Prince what he was doing when he had his large hunting crossbow strapped to his manservant's packhorse.
It was still early enough that the sunlight was soft and dappled and Arthur could feel the mist on his face. He sucked in a deep breath; the air was so cold he could feel it hit the back of his throat and freeze in his lungs.
It was magnificent; it made him feel more alive than the all too often stale castle air ever could.
"Hey Arthur," Merlin said from behind him.
"He speaks!" Arthur said in mock amazement, twisting in his saddle to look at Merlin. Merlin still looked slightly pale.
"Can we stop sometime?"
"Why?" Arthur looked closely at Merlin. "Are you feeling sick?"
"No, no," Merlin said, looking down at his horses withers. The fingers of one of his hands were knotted in his horse's brown mane. "I just…want to stop."
Arthur sighed and asked in a matter of fact tone, "Do you need to urinate?"
Merlin looked up, taken aback.
"No, Arthur, I do not need to urinate."
Arthur shrugged. He'd dealt with enough green knights and injured soldiers to be desensitized to talk about bodily functions. Despite also having gone on patrols with new knights and working with Gaius Merlin had never seemed to develop such a tolerance.
"Okay, we can stop," Arthur said in a long suffering voice. "And you can go and stand in the trees, just out of sight, and enjoy the scenery for approximately the same time it takes to-"
"I don't need to go to the bathroom, Arthur!" Merlin said. He sounded like he couldn't quite believe they were having this conversation.
"Sure, sure," Arthur said. He waited for a moment, lulling Merlin into a false sense of security.
"Course there aren't any bathrooms out here anyway," he added after a moment. He was rewarded by a wordless grumble of exasperation.
It was hardly a sparkling conversation but it was better than nothing. Arthur congratulated himself on his amazing social skills.
They rode on for a few minutes until Arthur saw a small clearing on the right through the trunks of a few sparse trees. It was roomy enough for the horses to be tied with a rope long enough to graze. Arthur wasn't sure why they were stopping and so wanted to allow for a wait.
"Through there," he said to Merlin, ducking his head beneath a tree branch and pointing.
Arthur felt the right rein and guided his stallion around with his legs, picking their way through the undergrowth to the clearing. Merlin's horse followed behind them with a cacophony of breaking twigs and rattling equipment bags.
"How long is this mystery errand going to take?" Arthur asked Merlin when they arrived in the clearing. "A few minutes? Or should I set up the horses to be tied?"
"Probably tie up the horses," Merlin said, disembarking his gelding rather ungracefully.
Arthur dismounted and tied up the horses, removing their bridles and replacing them with headstalls for safety, as Merlin removed the saddles and propped them against a nearby tree.
When the horses were secure Arthur made his way over to where Merlin was standing a short way into the trees. Merlin was facing the clearing so Arthur knew he wasn't about to interrupt him relieving himself.
"Why have we stopped?" Arthur asked bluntly. He had been quite tolerant of Merlin's inexplicableness up until this point but did want to know if there was a legitimate reason.
"I need to tell you something, Arthur," Merlin said. His voice was steady but he was rubbing his hands together compulsively.
Arthur realized all of a sudden that Merlin didn't actually look tired.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, feeling the beginnings of trepidation in his stomach.
Merlin looked at him. His eyes were lined with worry but his jaw was set, resolute.
For an instant Arthur wondered what could have driven Merlin to drag Arthur out into the middle of the forest to talk to him.
Had he seen something? Was he in danger?
The knowledge that something had happened to Merlin to induce such caution without Arthur realizing made his eyes narrow and his attention flare wide. In the spanse of a second Arthur's mind raked over the past few days looking for any clues or signs that something had been wrong.
Without thinking he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.
Had somebody threatened Merlin?
Merlin's eyes followed Arthur's hand to its position on his sword. If Arthur hadn't known better he would've thought Merlin looked…afraid.
"What's is it, Merlin?" Arthur repeated. "What's happened?"
When Merlin still didn't speak Arthur insisted, "Whatever it is I'm sure I can help."
At this, to Arthur's surprise, Merlin gave a small little laugh. This more than anything else set Arthur's nerves jangling. It had been a helpless sound, the laugh of somebody cornered. That laugh coming from Merlin's mouth made Arthur feel like the world was listing, taking water.
"Merlin," he said softly, removing his hand from his sword. He didn't know why Merlin was looking at his sword like it was a death warrant but he was, and Arthur wanted him to stop. "What is it? Let me help."
Merlin sighed, and then, eyes casting upward through the canopy to look at the sky, he seemed to make a conscious effort to pull himself together. From his sigh he pulled in a deep, steadying breath. He exhaled slowly, then inhaled deeply again.
On this next exhalation, he spoke.
"Arthur, what I am going to tell you is going to change some things, but I want you to know that I have always been on your side and I will always be your friend, no matter what happens."
Arthur blinked, startled. Merlin's honesty was so raw and unexpected that he didn't know what to do with it; he didn't know how to feel or react. He felt a tightness in chest despite himself.
When he didn't say anything in response Merlin scrunched his mouth for a moment and looked away. Facing the damp leaf litter Merlin nodded to himself. As he did so his eyes closed. They closed too long for a blink but just long enough to be a sign that he was summoning his courage for something.
Merlin then opened his eyes, looked at Arthur and said in a calm and level voice,
"Arthur, I have magic."