A/N: Sorry about the double alert for chapter 2; I was still learning how to add a chapter. I think I can do it right this time. And thank you again to all of you who reviewed and/or put this on story alert. I appreciate it more than you can know.
And again, my disclaimer: BBC; not me
Chapter 3
Merlin watched Arthur walk back and forth, back and forth. The prince had been doing this for a quarter of an hour now, completely in silence, only occasionally glancing at the young warlock. Mostly he looked at the ground, or at the sword he absently twirled, or even off into the distance. Merlin was desperate to know what Arthur was thinking, but he was afraid to interrupt his train of thought. So he sat in silence, still hugging his knees, trying to make himself look as small and innocuous as possible.
Finally Arthur heaved a big sigh and returned to his seat across from Merlin. He regarded the boy with an unreadable expression, one he used to great advantage in his father's court. Merlin felt the butterflies in his belly flutter anew.
"Merlin," began Arthur quietly but firmly, "when we left the stables today, I knew that one of two things would happen. And either way, I would be returning alone." Merlin swallowed hard and nodded, waiting. "First, I might banish you from Camelot, and send you home to Ealdor. I even packed a saddlebag for you. As long as you stayed away from Camelot, I would keep your secret from my father, and you could live your life in peace in Cendred's or any other kingdom. If you ever returned to Camelot, however, I would denounce you to my father, and you would face certain arrest and execution."
Merlin was surprised that Uther didn't already know, and even further astonished that Arthur would keep his secret after banishment. After all, once Merlin was gone, what was there to protect?
"The second," Arthur was continuing, "I think you know." He took a shaky breath and blew it out. "You are my friend, Merlin, despite all – this. And I could never have handed you over to my father – he'd have been beside himself, a sorcerer in his castle, living so close to the Crown for so long – he would never have settled for a simple beheading. He would have tortured you unmercifully, and then had you burned alive, very, very slowly, as an example to all," Arthur said bitterly. He looked at Merlin, pleading for him to understand. "I just couldn't let that happen to you. I'd rather take care of it myself, quick and clean and as painlessly as possible."
Merlin nodded and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He supposed if he had to die, he'd rather it be at Arthur's side, regardless of the circumstances. "Would you say goodbye to Gaius for me?" he asked, picking at the end of his sleeve.
"What?" asked Arthur, surprised. "Oh, of course I will. I'll take care of it, you have my word." His Prince voice was back.
"And my mother – could you get word to her? Tell her I love her." The tears were threatening to spill, but Merlin was determined not to cry.
"What are you talking about?" asked Arthur in confusion.
Merlin took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Arthur's. "I'm ready, then. I assume you want me kneeling," he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking. Damnit, he would be brave!
"What?" Arthur asked, sounding completely baffled. And then – he got it. "Oh, no, Merlin! No, I didn't mean that, Gods, no. I've already decided not to execute you!" He suddenly noticed the sword still in his hand, and muttering an oath, tossed it well aside. He reached across, grabbed Merlin by both shoulders, and raised him up, holding him at arm's length, looking unflinchingly into his friend's glistening eyes.
"You idiot," he said affectionately, and gathered him into an embrace. Merlin finally let go of all the stress and pain and terror of the day, and sobbed onto Arthur's shoulder. "It's okay, Merlin, you're safe, I promise," Arthur murmured, and he held Merlin close, patting his back and stroking his hair as he would a small child. Part of him wondered what his father would say, seeing the two of them like this, but right now Arthur didn't much care. This wasn't about prince and peasant, master and servant – it was about deep friendship; Merlin needed him, and he would be damned before he would let his friend down! Arthur stood as strong as his friend needed him to be, carefully unknotting the neckerchief he had always poked fun at and using it to wipe Merlin's tears. Eventually the flood subsided to sniffles, and then to embarrassed hiccups, and finally Arthur guided his friend back down to sit, this time perching alongside him in companionable silence. They had both accepted that Merlin would be leaving soon for Ealdor, and that it might be a long time before they saw each other again – if ever. By unspoken agreement, they prolonged their time together as much as possible, speaking little, just being content in each other's company.
"Arthur," said Merlin, after a while, "how did you find out?"
Arthur sighed. "It wasn't any one thing, really. I've suspected for quite a while. Things just … didn't always add up. But I had to be sure. So I waited, and watched. I've been certain for about two weeks. It took me that long to get up the courage to confront you, actually." Arthur gave a rueful smile. "I can go out and face all manner of enemies with a sword in my hand, but facing down my skinny idiot of a manservant terrified me."
"Why?" Merlin asked, surprised. "You didn't really think I'd hurt you?"
"Honestly?" Arthur answered. "I wasn't completely sure. But no, I didn't think so, not on purpose. I guess I was more afraid of being right – and losing the best friend I've ever had. And if you ever repeat that to anyone, I'll deny I ever said it!" he finished vehemently. Merlin laughed, and they lapsed into silence once more.
After a while: "Gaius knows, doesn't he?" Merlin picked at some blades of grass and said nothing. Arthur snorted. "I'm not going to arrest him, or anything. You can tell me."
Merlin looked up. "Sorry. It's just…I'm so used to hiding it. Yes, Gaius knows," he admitted simply. "I suppose it would be hard for him not to."
"Who else?"
"Nobody else in Camelot," said Merlin carefully.
Arthur noted that Merlin had given a rather cryptic answer, but chose to let it pass, and contented himself with watching his friend shred more grass for a while.
"I'm sorry I had to lie to you," said Arthur several minutes later. At Merlin's blank look, he elaborated, "two friends, riding together for the fun of it?"
"Oh. That." Merlin swallowed. He'd almost been able to forget that part.
"I saw how happy it made you," mumbled Arthur. "I wish it could really have been that way."
"Well," allowed Merlin, "it kind of was. Until it wasn't. I did enjoy the part that was." And they exchanged weak smiles before looking away again in silence.
"You could have gotten away, couldn't you," said Arthur a few minutes later.
"When?"
"Any time. Today, if I'd decided to execute you. But you would have let me do it anyway."
"Yes, and yes." Merlin shredded a rather long blade of grass between his fingers, then let it drop.
"And if my father had arrested you and sentenced you to the flames?"
"I could have escaped. I don't know if I would have. Probably, though. I have to be alive if I'm going to protect you. And protecting you is, well, something I have to do"
"So why would you have let me…you know?"
Merlin sighed. "I guess – I felt that if you'd lost faith in me, I didn't have much left to live for anyway. Everything I do is for you, Arthur. If you want me dead, I guess I should be dead."
Arthur let out a curse and got up, pacing angrily for a few moments. And then, "No, no, NO, Merlin!" He stopped and stared down at the startled warlock. "You have been willing to sacrifice your life to save mine – something I never asked for, by the way – and I am grateful. But you are never to sacrifice yourself for something as stupid as an ill-conceived law, my father's blindness, or what you perceive to be my feelings. Is that understood?"
Merlin couldn't help himself; he grinned. "Understood, Sire," he said. "I'll keep myself alive, I promise – until you need me again, that is."
"Idiot" muttered the prince, somewhat mollified.
Merlin stood, also. "It's getting late," he said reluctantly. "You probably want to get home before the king starts sending out search parties for you. And I guess I should be leaving, too. You know, gotta start my banishment and all." His attempt at levity fell flat.
"Yeah, about that," said Arthur, a curious expression on his face, "maybe there's something we can do about that after all."
Merlin felt his heart jump. Had he heard correctly? Had Arthur just said there might be a way to avoid being banished from Camelot?
"What I was trying – and obviously failing – to tell you before," said the prince, "was that when we left today, I knew that I would be returning alone, as indeed I will be. But maybe there's a way you can come home soon, maybe make your trip to Ealdor just a visit instead of a banishment."
Merlin felt himself gasping for air, pouncing on the smallest hope. "Anything, Arthur. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do!" He knew he sounded desperate, but at this point, he didn't care.
Arthur smiled sadly. "Actually, Merlin, you have already done your part. You told me your story. Now I have to go home and think about it, try to absorb what it all means. Everything I know about you tells me that your magic is not evil. I believe you when you say that you've only used it to protect me and to keep Camelot safe. But everything I have been taught before today tells me the opposite. Magic is evil. It corrupts all those it touches. I have to reconcile the two, Merlin. I'll probably talk to Gaius, carefully, of course. I'm certain he can help me work through this."
Merlin nodded. "He's very wise about these sorts of things," he confirmed.
"And then I have to decide if I can live with the knowledge that a sorcerer is living in the castle, right under my father's nose," Arthur continued. "I mean, I know I've gone against my father before – to get the Morteus flower, to save the Druid boy, to rescue Guinevere – but those were single events, lasting a day or two, and I was willing to face the consequences. But this – this would be every single day for the rest of my father's life. I'd be breaking the king's highest laws, committing treason against Camelot, in his eyes, betraying him. I have to decide whether I can live with that – and, conversely, whether I can live with myself if instead I banish someone who, it turns out, has been my greatest protector and most loyal friend."
"I never wanted you to have to make that decision," whispered Merlin.
"I know," said Arthur sadly. "But here we are. So. I am going to go home and ponder all this, and as soon as I've made my decision, I will send you a message letting you know whether to return to Camelot or to stay in exile. Fair enough?"
Merlin nodded. "Fair enough," he agreed. They walked a few steps towards the horses. "Arthur," Merlin said in a small voice, "I had always hoped I would be able to tell you myself someday. I'm sorry I had to keep it from you."
Arthur nodded. "I understand why you did. It can't have been easy."
"No." Merlin paused a moment, and then resolutely faced his prince. "Here is something that may help you with your decision, then," he said, and dropped to his knees, reaching for one of Arthur's hands and clasping it between both of his own. "I, Merlin," he said solemnly, staring unflinchingly into Arthur's eyes, "pledge my life to yours, Arthur Pendragon. My life, limb, and magic are yours to command from now until the day I die. This I so swear." He kissed Arthur's hand in fealty before releasing it, and bowed his head, awaiting the prince's reaction.
Arthur was both stunned and deeply moved. This was Merlin, Merlin who called him a prat on a regular basis, who never seemed to know his place, who rarely bowed, and who had never even once knelt to Arthur the whole time they'd known each other. Merlin, who had shown himself to be Arthur's most loyal and trusted friend, had just spoken a vow that both would consider as binding as that of any knight to his king.
Arthur swallowed before he could trust himself to speak. "Rise, Merlin," he said, reaching out his hand to assist, as was customary, although the words he spoke were not. "I…accept your pledge, my friend. And I thank you."
Merlin nodded, and they walked the rest of the way to the horses in silence. Arthur gave Merlin the packed saddlebag, and quickly showed him what provisions were inside. They both mounted up. "Um, whether you come back to Camelot or not," said Arthur, "the horse is yours. His name is Whisper. I think the stable boys named him, but you can call him whatever you wish."
"Whisper's fine," said Merlin. Both were ready to leave, but neither was actually going anywhere. "It's been an honor to serve you, Sire," Merlin said quietly. "On three then?"
Arthur smiled and nodded. "Only you, Merlin," he chuckled. Together they counted "One…two…three…" And on three they nudged their horses, headed in opposite directions, and as much as they both wanted to, neither looked back.
xxxxx
concrit welcome