Chapter 1

Arthur had been doing a lot of thinking in the past few weeks since his trip to the forest of Magnaroth and the events that had ensued afterwards. Many of his questions about the life-view shattering issues that had been raised had gone unanswered in the end, and reeling over the events repeatedly in his mind was starting to seem futile.

It did not help that his councillors still insisted on having long discussions about the whereabouts and potential threat of the sorcerer Emrys. Arthur had been eager to join in these discussions at first, hoping he would discover something about the mysterious man, but he soon realized that there was nothing to learn on the topic from the people around him. None of his knights, guards or councillors had ever even heard of Emrys before. Even Gaius claimed no knowledge of the man. Agravaine was very keen on the topic and always brought it up at every meeting, but never contributed anything useful to the discussions.

The only piece of information that he had gleamed on the topic after weeks of boring meetings with circular discussions was when Geoffrey de Monmouth had mentioned that the word "Emrys" meant "immortal" in the druid tongue. However, other than as a clue that Emrys might be a druid, or at least that his parents probably were since they would be the ones who had chosen his name, this gave him no useful information.

Arthur had gotten to the point where his main concern during repetitive discussions about the implications of Emrys' motives and possible return was simply keeping his eyes open and trying to look vaguely concerned. He had even stopped wondering if every person he passed in the hallways might secretly be the sorcerer.

His interest in Emrys' identity stemmed more out of an insatiable curiosity than of distrust of the man. The more Arthur looked back on events in past years the more he was convinced that Emrys really must have been protecting Camelot with magic just as he had said. There were too many unexplained miraculous events to believe otherwise. It would finally explain how an immortal army had simply exploded on its own, how Cornelius Sigan went from devastating the citadel with gargoyles to being trapped in a jewel, and how hundreds of people trapped in an enchanted sleep suddenly woke up of their own accord.

Certain that Emrys was not a threat to his kingdom, Arthur was much less concerned with the identity of the man than with the things that he had said when Arthur had spoken with him.

As much as he did not want to address the issue, he simply could not ignore the creeping doubts in the back of his mind that whispered that he was currently ruling a kingdom where unjust laws condemned innocent people for nothing more than how they were born.

He had tried ignoring it, telling himself that even if a few individuals suffered because of his laws, this was necessary for the protection of many more innocent subjects in his kingdom, but Arthur did not want to be the kind of king who allowed anyone to be left behind. He had sworn to himself years ago that when he ruled, no one in his kingdom, no matter how common or noble, would be denied respect, justice or the opportunity to prove themselves. It was only now that he was king that he realized how difficult such a thing could be to achieve. Even his courtship of Guinevere was hardly as smooth as he always imagined kingship would make it. While he had ultimate authority on such matters, castle gossip, the disapproval of councillors and nobles, and the hints from foreign dignitaries of alternative matches that would benefit the kingdom dogged his very footsteps. If it was this hard for him to make such a small change to the status quo that hardly even affected those who objected, he didn't want to think about what an outcry there would be if he even suggested a change in the laws against magic.

Even his own implemented systems of governance were working against him. His father had consulted councillors for advice on their topics of expertise, but allowed no one in his kingdom to have any real input in his decisions. In an effort to give a voice to a wider range of people, Arthur had ruled that any major decisions affecting the kingdom such as changes to established laws or declarations of war must be discussed and voted on by a council of respected elders before the king could make a ruling. Arthur no longer had the power to overturn laws without either getting the support of his councillors, or spitting in the face of the system of shared power he had established and overruling them. And Arthur really couldn't see getting any of his councillors on board with legalizing magic even if he wanted to.

Even the smallest hint towards such a notion could set off an unfortunate chain of events with unforeseen consequences. Arthur knew that a king's hold on his kingdom is more fragile than most people realize. He had the love and respect of his people and to forsake that could well lead to bloody rebellion or civil war.

But Arthur was never one to back down from something just because it seemed daunting. This was perhaps why he simply could not dismiss the notion from his mind that he should be doing something about the issue of the supposed "good sorcerers" who, if they truly existed as Emrys claimed, were being persecuted unjustly under his own rule.

Arthur knew that he had been withdrawn lately, mainly because he had not wanted to voice his doubts out loud. He had been avoiding everyone recently but he was starting to realize that he really needed to speak to someone about this or he would go insane drowning in his own thoughts and never finding any answers. Of course, there was only one person that Arthur knew he could trust to hear him out without judgement and offer honest advice full of unexpected wisdom that Arthur would never give credit to, lest it go to his head.

"Merlin," Arthur looked up from his desk, which he had been staring thoughtfully at for half the morning, and looked at the man who was changing his sheets across the room, "do you think Emrys was telling the truth – that it is possible for people to be born with magic?"

Merlin looked up from him work, face serious.

"Maybe you should ask Gaius," he said hesitantly.

Gaius probably would know better than anyone, but despite having once used magic, he had always been Uther's most trusted ally in the fight against it. Arthur really didn't want to have this conversation with him, lest he face the raised eyebrow of silent judgement.

"I'm asking you," he said to Merlin with a stern gaze daring him to even try to wiggle out of this conversation.

Merlin took the hint and answered him properly this time, "Well if it was true it would make a lot of sense."

Arthur waited for Merlin to continue. He had already thought to himself that it would make sense of a lot of things but was desperate to hear someone else's thoughts on the matter.

"I mean," Merlin continued, "my friend Will, he um, he never told me much about his magic, but he always had it since we were kids. And where would he learn something like that in a place like Ealdor anyways?"

Arthur has completely forgotten that Merlin had once been friends with a sorcerer. Merlin had certainly survived the association without Will turning on him. And the one time Arthur had met Will, he had only used his magic to save the town and had then selflessly taken a bolt to save Arthur's life. He could be a perfect example of exactly the kind of sorcerer that Emrys had been talking about – a regular person born with powers they can't control, forced to either hide in fear or seek magical training.

"Was Will able to control his magic?" Arthur asked, probing for details that would confirm or disprove Emrys' description.

"Yes, I mean, no. That is – not really," said Merlin unhelpfully.

"So he never actually learned how to use it?"

"He didn't know any spells or anything. Stuff would just kind of happen, when he was upset or scared," Merlin explained, "He couldn't control it most of the time."

That sounded eerily like Emrys' exact description of what he had called a "warlock". And if even one such person existed, surely that confirmed that he had been telling the truth. But Arthur now realized that he had almost been hoping for Merlin to say something like, "people born with magic? Gaius says that's impossible," because that would have allowed him to simply put the issue aside in good conscience. Now that Emrys' words had been confirmed by a trusted eye-witness account, he was morally obligated to search for a solution to the issue.

"But if some people can't help having magic," he asked, "does that make it wrong to outlaw it?"

Merlin set an intense gaze on him and said quietly, "I think it is wrong to punish someone for something outside of their control."

Arthur felt like he was having the same argument he had been having with himself for the past several weeks again, just out loud this time.

"But the law is needed to protect the people of Camelot. If magic was allowed, how could I protect my people from it?"

"You could still apply the law to those who use magic to commit crimes, just the same as if they had done it without magic."

Merlin made it sound so easy. If his servant wasn't clutching a pile of dirty sheets so hard that his knuckles had turned white, Arthur might wonder if he was really taking this conversation seriously.

"But how could I maintain the power to enforce laws on those with magic if I allow them to multiply and grow in strength. Camelot could be destroyed."

"Sorcerers live under enforced laws in other lands. Besides, Camelot could have been destroyed because of the ban on magic. Didn't Rothgard say that he had only invaded Camelot because there were no other sorcerers here to stop him?"

Arthur hadn't thought of that. If he hadn't had the help of magic, Rothgard would have taken over his kingdom with ease. In that instance, the laws against magic put the kingdom at risk rather than keeping it safe. Had the other times that magic had been used against the kingdom also been made worse rather than better by the laws against its use? Perhaps banning magic actually placed more limits on those who would defend Camelot than on those who would do it harm. If he were to reconcile with the sorcerers in his land, there was every chance that he would have enough magic on his side to enforce law on those of them who tried to use their magic for ill. And if the laws against magic actually put his people in more danger than it protected them from, how could he continue to support them? It would be irresponsible to continue to ban magic.

Why is it that whenever he sought advice from Merlin, things that seemed morally right but not practically possible suddenly started to seem like the most practical things in the world?

"It's all just talk anyways," he said, knowing that the last argument against doing anything about the laws could not be avoided, "the councillors would never support a change in the law, the people would panic, it would cause chaos."

"You can find a way to do it, Arthur," Merlin said firmly, looking Arthur in the eye, "I know you can."

Arthur looked at Merlin. This was one of those moments when he realized that there was more to his servant that meets the eye. Where did Merlin's faith in his as-yet unconfirmed ability or even desire to stop the persecution of magic users come from?

"How come you are so sure about all of this?" he asked.

Merlin's eyes lowered and he started busying himself by piling Arthur's dirty sheets into a laundry basket.

"I just know that you will do the right thing," he said before picking up the laundry basket and glancing meaningfully at the door.

"You can go," Arthur said, allowing Merlin to get on with his actual job.

Arthur held his hands together on top of the council table to stop himself from tapping nervously on the wood as the councillors assembled for the meeting. To the members of his council, this was just an ordinary meeting and it wouldn't do to have them realize that Arthur was about to embark on a sneaky bit of political maneuvering. If all went well, magic would be hardly discussed during the proceedings at all.

After Merlin left him to his own thoughts, Arthur had wondered long and hard about how to alter the laws condemning magic users, while still commanding the respect of his subjects. He had finally come up with a plan to at least lessen the punishments for those convicted of possessing magic. He hoped that it might turn out to be a first step in inching towards long term change.

"I would like to address the issue of the death penalty in Camelot," said Arthur, once the meeting had begun, "Three weeks ago, a pyre was ordered built without my approval and I do not wish for this to happen again. I propose that we adjust the laws governing capital punishment, including its forms and the crimes that merit such a sentence."

"What kind of changes do you propose we make?" Agravaine inquired.

"I propose first that the practice of burning at the stake be officially discontinued, and all future executions be carried out by either hanging or beheading."

Arthur sat back after delivering his proposal and allowed the councillors to discuss the matter. He did not really think that they would be hard to persuade on this point, and was not surprised to hear very little dissention as they each spelled out in long flowery words what a great and wise idea their king's proposal was. They were each, no doubt, still shaken by the fact that they had nearly stood by and watched Arthur be burned at the stake and were thus both sympathetic to Arthur's proposal and even more anxious than usual to suck up to their king.

After the law banning the pyre had been voted on and passed, Arthur steeled himself for the more difficult part of what he wanted to address.

"My second proposal is that we restrict punishment by execution to only those found guilty of either murder or treason. Other crimes previously punishable by death will be henceforth judged on a case by case basis in order to set new precedents for their sentences, for example: imprisonment, banishment, manual labour or fines."

The councillors were visibly much more stirred by this suggestion.

"Sire, what of those caught smuggling goods or evading taxes?" asked Agravaine.

"And people who use magic or harbour sorcerers?" added a councillor.

"And men and women caught in the act of adultery?" added another.

Arthur held up a hand to silence the protests.

"The worst offenders of those crimes are usually also guilty of murder or plotting against the kingdom, in which case the death sentence still stands. For those who have not gone so far down the road of evil, I believe they are not necessarily all beyond redemption. The punishments for those crimes can still be stern without resorting to execution."

Though many of the councillors had opened their mouths to argue before Arthur spoke, they now appeared to be hesitating and thinking.

"I believe the king is right," Gaius spoke up, "a lot of good can come from giving people the benefit of the doubt."

Good old Gaius. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as the discussion turned from a sea of protests to a two sided debate on the advantages and disadvantages of the proposed changes.

The discussion lasted a long time, even by the council's standards. In the end, a vote was taken and although it was close, the majority had ruled in favour of passing the new laws that greatly limited the crimes punished by execution.

In all their nitpicking about whether smuggling should fall under the category of treason and long anecdotes about the traditions of punishments for various crimes, the issue of magic had been barely touched on. Arthur had quietly changed the subject as quickly as he could whenever they had steered too close to those waters. His plan had worked and he would bet that it did not even cross any of his councillor's minds that the new law they had passed absolved all sorcerers who had not killed anyone or plotted against Camelot and allowed Arthur the freedom to determine on his own what an appropriate punishment for simply using magic would be.

It would all have to come to a head at some point though. Inevitably a sorcerer would be caught and taken to Arthur for judgement. But he would deal with that day when it came. Unless they were a legitimate enemy of the throne he would point out that they did not qualify for the death penalty, but what kind of punishment, if any, he would actually give them would depend on what they had been caught doing and what kind of danger they posed – not something that he could plan in advance.

But that was a matter for another day. For now, Arthur was just satisfied with his little victory and the knowledge that the laws of his kingdom were more merciful today than they were yesterday.

Just as the council was adjourning and Arthur was considering taking a well-deserved nap, a woman dressed in rags burst into the room, knocking aside an old councillor who was on his way out. She ran straight to Arthur and, gabbing hold of the front of his shirt, she gasped out the word, "Arthur," before falling into a dead faint.

Arthur caught her as she fell and lowered her gently to the ground before taking a step back and staring at the sight in disbelief. He knew those soft features and blond curls from years of staring longingly at portraits painted before his birth and from that fateful day when he had accepted Morgause's offer to grant him a single wish.

Agravaine stepped forward and said in disbelief, "Ygraine?"

It was his mother.