A/N: A huge thank-you to all of you who reviewed and/or put this on story alert. I found this site and lurked for about a month before getting up enough nerve to actually post a story, and your response was so much more than I'd hoped for. Thank you all.

Nightmare-Naka asked me where in the series my story was supposed to fit. After an initial squirm, I answered: "I imagine it at the end of season two. In Chapter 2, events from both seasons are briefly mentioned, and I avoided including any characters [in the entire story] who should be absent after season two ends. However, I didn't actually see all the episodes of the second season, so there may be some contradictions, which would make this an AU." There, clear as mud?

And because I forgot this last time, disclaimer: BBC, not me.

Chapter 2

"So, Merlin. Just how long have you been a sorcerer?" And Merlin's world came crashing down around him.

"I – I don't know what you mean," he stammered, taking a step backwards, and then another one, panic setting in.

Arthur strode forward, and pointed his sword directly at Merlin's throat. He lifted his chin with the tip, effectively stopping Merlin's backtracking. In a voice much calmer and steadier than Arthur felt, he said, "I know, Merlin, and you know I know. You've been caught. So let's skip the part where you protest and lie and try to get out of this. Answer my question. How long?" The last two words were spoken in Arthur's best command voice, calculated to elicit an immediate response.

Merlin's eyes darted desperately back and forth, as if trying to find a way of escape, looked down the length of the sword, and finally closed in defeat. "Since before I can remember," he admitted wearily. "I was born this way." He dared open his eyes a little to see how Arthur was taking this bit of information. Not well.

Arthur's face was set in a cold mask of anger. "Try again," he snapped.

Merlin sighed. "It's the truth, Sire," he said quietly. "I was moving things around with my mind before I could talk." He took a deep breath. "How did you find out?" he asked in a whisper.

"I'm asking the questions," Arthur said sharply. But then, as Merlin closed his eyes again in acceptance, he muttered, "and does it really make any difference?"

"No, I guess it doesn't," said Merlin miserably, finally looking directly at his prince. "I swear to you, though, that my magic is not evil. I have only ever used it for good, and I always will."

Arthur looked at his manservant incredulously. "Magic is inherently evil. Even if you use it for good now, its power will eventually corrupt you. Magic cannot be tolerated in any form." But as Arthur repeated these words he'd heard so often, he couldn't quite reconcile them with the gentle manservant – friend, even – he knew standing in front of him. Merlin always put others before himself, even to the point of being willing to sacrifice his own life to save another – Arthur himself, or Morgana's servant Guinevere…

"Guinevere!" he suddenly burst out. "You're the one who saved Gwen's father from that plague!"

"As I confessed at the time," Merlin confirmed sadly. "I couldn't help it if nobody believed me."

"But why would you even admit to something like that? You must have known my father would kill you." Arthur let the sword tip drop down to his own side. "Any plans you had, any evil you intended to wreak in the castle, would have ended when you were executed."

Merlin smiled sadly. "I told you, Sire, I only use my magic for good. I just want to serve you, to protect you, and to help you to become the great king you are destined to be. I am truly sorry I have had to hide who I really am from you. I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but…"

"But?"

"But I was afraid of how you'd react (like this!), I was worried about what the king would do, (does he know?), I didn't want you to have to make a choice between me and your father…"

"How noble of you," Arthur said drily.

Merlin flinched at Arthur's tone. "Are – are you going to kill me?" He forced himself to meet Arthur's eyes.

"I haven't decided yet," the prince replied warily. "That depends on you, your answers…Oh, for the Gods' sake, Merlin," he snapped, as he noticed a tear beginning to form in the younger boy's eye. He raised his sword to Merlin's left shoulder, moving it back and forth toward his neck a few times. "My sword is very sharp, and I'm very, very good! You probably won't even feel much of anything at all!" At the look on Merlin's face, he relented a bit and motioned with his sword toward the ground. "Sit down." Merlin didn't move. "Sit!" he commanded, and Merlin quickly did so, hugging his knees to himself as if for protection. Arthur lowered himself down a few feet away and laid the sword across his lap, ready if needed.

"Now talk," demanded the prince, "and tell me everything, all the magic you've done since you've been in Camelot, good or bad, all of it. I want the truth, Merlin, and I want it now."

So Merlin told his story, beginning with his arrival in Camelot, leaving almost nothing out. He did omit Gaius' involvement, Lancelot's knowledge of Merlin's magic, and absolutely everything incriminating about Morgana – he refused to implicate anyone else in what could be considered capital crimes. (And dancing around Morgana's abilities and exploits took quite some doing!) He explained about the Great Dragon, the afanc, Nimueh (several times), the truth about Sophia, his rescue of Freya, what had really happened with the witch hunter – everything. And Arthur didn't interrupt once, tempted though he was, many times. Eventually Merlin stopped talking, and the two just sat there in silence, Merlin resting his voice, and Arthur trying to take it all in.

"So when I recovered from the Questing Beast's bite," Arthur finally said, "and you came to me and said that you were happy to be my servant until the day you die, you really meant it?"

"Yes," answered Merlin, "and I still do. Although at the time I thought Nimueh was going to kill me in a few hours…"

"And instead you killed her." Arthur finished the thought. "Just how powerful are you, Merlin?"

Merlin looked uncomfortable. He really didn't want to answer this. "Well, I'm not exactly sure." At Arthur's pointed gaze, he added, "Very. I'm very powerful. I just don't know the real extent of my powers, because I keep discovering new things I can do." He trailed off. Idiot, he berated himself, probably not the sort of thing you should say if you want to keep your head!

Arthur got up and started pacing. He had a decision to make. And it was a big one.

okay, so I like cliffies!

concrit welcome