3
They build the largest pyre in Camelot's history for the execution, the first of King Arthur's reign. The structure stands like a tower, dwarfing the silent onlookers and red-cloaked knights. Arthur doubled the guard for this execution, worried about attempted rescues and escapes. The drums echo through the court and the spectators part, allowing the guards to march the sorcerer to the pyre, silently. He's half dragged, half marched up the steps to the stake but he doesn't struggle against the guard's hands. The silence doesn't break until the guards begin to chain the sorcerer to the pyre.
"Arthur, please," Merlin pleads, his voice breaking. The guards wrench his arms behind his back, "I'm innocent. Please, Arthur, you have to believe me."
Arthur doesn't react as he watches the guard step off the platform. The drums tap steadily and Arthur brings down his arm, motioning for the guard to lower the torch.
It goes up faster than any pyre Arthur has witnessed before, swallowing the wood in seconds. As it burns Merlin thrashes, pulling against the chains, face twisted in agony. Something dark in the center of the pyre catches Arthur's eye, and he squints, trying to get a clearer view. The flames recede and standing behind the stake is an inhumanely tall figure, cloaked in flowing black robes, completely untouched by the fire. It stares at Arthur unwaveringly, motionless as Merlin begins to slacken in his bonds. Then it reaches out and drags it's skeletal hand down Merlin's face, smiling with wide teeth.
"Confess."
Arthur wakes with a start, jumping out of bed in an instant with a sword in hand. The word echoes around his room so clearly that Arthur is sure the creature is with him.
Arthur searches through the darkness, expecting to catch a glimpse of white eyes. But the room is silent and empty, save himself.
Releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding, Arthur drops his sword on the bed and sits on the edge, head in his hands.
He hasn't been able to sleep since they returned to Camelot days ago. Every time he tries he's plagued with dreams of torture, pyres, and shadow figures.
And Merlin.
The dreams are always different. Sometimes Merlin burns silently, reduced to nothing but ash and bones. Other times he screams and pleads until his lungs fill with smoke. The worst ones are when they're back in the cave and the creature tortures his servant until he's limp in the chains, and no longer breathing.
And Arthur has no idea why.
They went through an ordeal, there's no doubt about it. But Arthur has faced undead armies and the Dorocha, and while those experiences were certainly unpleasant, none of them have affected him like this.
A voice in his head whispers, "Sorcery," but Arthur pushes it away, ignoring how much it sounds like his father's.
He hasn't been to check on Merlin since he brought him to Gaius almost three nights ago. Instead, he's relied on reports from his knights to make sure that he's still alive. They all stare at him strangely when they bring news, no doubt wondering why he hasn't been to visit himself. The only one to actually bring it up was Gwaine.
"Why don't you go find out how Merlin's doing from Merlin?" The knight asked after he gave his report.
Arthur just glared, readying a retort about him being the king and not having to answer to anyone.
"It's funny," Gwaine said, ignoring Arthur's harsh look, "Merlin doesn't seem to fancy you coming to see him either. What happened in that cave?"
Gwaine and his knowing, accusing eyes made Arthur feel guilty, and it infuriated him to no end.
Merlin is the liar. Merlin is the sorcerer.
Instead of answering his knight, he dismissed Gwaine harshly and spent the rest of the day shredding a training dummy.
That was this morning. Now, sitting in his too-dark and too-quiet chambers, Arthur wonders if Gwaine was right, and he just needs to see Merlin for himself.
He can't admit it to his knights but it's fear that's kept him from visiting his servant. What if Merlin's condition is worse than what he's been told? What if when he sees him, Arthur can only see a sorcerer and not his closest friend?
Before he didn't want to know the answer to any of these questions, but something about this last nightmare has him on edge and he finds he can't let it be. Before he even knows what he's doing, he's out of his room and making his way to the physician's chambers.
Arthur stares at Gauis' door, wondering if he should knock and feeling foolish for being so hesitant. Exhaling, Arthur pushes the door open slowly, wincing as it protests loudly. The room is warm and quiet, glowing from the array of candles placed on every available surface. Gaius is nowhere to be seen but Merlin is asleep on the cot, tossing and turning. Arthur watches from the doorway, unsure of what to do and questioning whether or not he made the right choice in coming.
"Can I help you, sire?"
Arthur jumps, startled by the older man's sudden presence. Gaius stares at the king with thinly veiled distrust and Arthur immediately knows what Gaius must be thinking.
"I was just…"
Gaius lifts an eyebrow.
"I don't know," Arthur finally admits.
"I see," Gaius says and walks past the king, moving to soothe Merlin's thrashing body.
Arthur watches the physician pull up a stool to Merlin's bedside, grabbing hold of his charge's hands as they clench the sheets. Merlin doesn't look like a dangerous sorcerer. He just looks scared. Tortured.
"Easy, my boy. It will pass," Gaius soothes.
Arthur feels a flash of envy at the fatherly display but quickly stomps it out.
"Has he been having nightmares?" Arthur asks.
"Yes," Gaius begins to use a cool cloth to dampen Merlin's forehead, "He's still with fever. It makes the dreams worse."
Merlin gasps harshly and Arthur flinches, remembering the same sound from when the creature began to cut Merlin open.
"I've had a few dreams as well," Arthur admits.
Gaius looks at him with curiosity, "Nightmares? This started the night you returned?"
Arthur nods, "Do you think it means anything?"
The physician stands from the stool and moves to grab a tonic from the shelf, "Sometimes nightmares are just nightmares, sire. But whatever took you was of magic. This could be a symptom of the ordeal you went through."
More magic. The very last thing that Arthur wants to think about.
Gaius hands him a dark blue tincture.
"This is to help you sleep. It hasn't done Merlin much good, I'm afraid, but perhaps it will bring you peace."
"Thank you," Arthur says.
Gaius quirks a half smile and Arthur feels as if he's been forgiven for something.
From the cot Merlin thrashes, catching the attention of the physician. Wordlessly, Gaius returns to his ward, dipping the cloth back into the nearby bucket, and placing it on Merlin's forehead.
Arthur stands awkwardly in the doorway, clenching the tincture in his hand. Arthur feels as if he should leave and yet, something is anchoring him, refusing to let his feet move.
"Arthur, no!" Merlin kicks in his sleep, fighting off an invisible foe. Arthur feels stricken and wonders if Merlin dreams of executions as often as he does. The thought makes him sick.
Gaius hushes his charge and for a moment Merlin calms. Then he looks back at Arthur, heartbreak evident on his face.
"There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, Arthur. Surely you must know that."
"I do," Arthur says and finds himself surprised that he believes it.
Merlin's eyes are sticky with grit when he opens them. The room is softly lit and Gaius moves around silently, mixing poultices and boiling herbs. Merlin watches every movement, letting the mundane and familiar motions chase away the last of his nightmares. Sometimes his sleep is dreamless, but more often than not it's plagued with caves, white teeth, and screams that aren't his own. It's worse when he wakes in the dark; he thinks that's why Gaius has taken to keeping candles lit late into the night.
Gaius turns around and notices that he's awake.
"You have good timing. I was just going to wake you to change your bandages," Gaius says, making his way over to the cot, "How is your pain?"
"How long?" Merlin's voice crackles with disuse, and his throat flares when he swallows.
Gaius' expression turns dark, "Almost four days now, in and out of consciousness."
Merlin can tell from the sound of his mentor's voice that it hasn't been an easy four days.
"The way Arthur tells it, you're lucky to have gotten out alive," Gaius continues while he pulls up a stool to Merlin's cot.
At the mention of the king, it all comes rushing back: Merlin had used his magic to save them. He had used magic in front of Arthur.
"He knows," Merlin gasps while trying to sit up. He regrets it immediately and is gently pushed back down by Gaius' guiding hands.
"Gaius! Arthur…"
"Knows. I know," Gaius confirms, face remaining neutral, "He was here a few nights ago while you were still unconscious."
"What did he say?" Merlin asks, fingers digging into his pillow. He can't stand the not knowing, wondering if Arthur's planning on jailing him or worse, wondering if the most important person in his world now hates him.
"Not much, I'm afraid," Gaius says apologetically. He begins to peel the bandages off his ward's back, working quickly but gently.
Merlin stares and his heart pounds, "How can you be so calm about this?"
"He hasn't ordered your arrest," Gaius says, "And that's all you need to worry about right now."
Silence passes between them as Merlin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Gaius works diligently, coating each wound with healing balms and re-dressing them meticulously.
"I'm sorry that you had to experience this, my boy," Gaius says sadly, "The creature. It was...as we feared?"
Merlin nods and tries not to think of wide, white teeth and glowing eyes, "It doesn't matter anymore. Arthur still found out."
"And yet here you are," Gaius reassures, "That must count for something."
"He's probably just mulling over what punishment will be best suited." Merlin's desperately trying not to think of cold iron and pyres, or how Arthur would look if Merlin were to call for him from behind flames.
"I don't think you give him enough credit," Gaius stands up to dispose of the bloody bandages, "Give him time. He'll come around."
Merlin closes his eyes. Even if Arthur doesn't, Merlin won't let him run around Albion unprotected, not even if Arthur wants to see him burn.
It's been a week since the cave, most of which Merlin's spent sleeping and trying to keep the nightmares at bay. His back hurts something fierce but Gaius reassures him that the damage isn't permanent, but that there isn't much that can be done for the scarring. Scars are the least of Merlin's concerns right now.
"Do you think it's safe?" Merlin asks, sitting over a bowl of stew, "Arthur, I mean."
"I wish I knew," Gaius responds, as he watches his ward poke at his food. Merlin gulps down a spoonful of stew but looks absolutely green while he does it. He drops the spoon in defeat.
"He hasn't been back," Melin tries not to sound as despondent as he feels. The way Gaius raises an eyebrow tells him that he's been unsuccessful.
The knights all came to visit: Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, and Percival. Gwen came and offered him a sympathetic smile and a reassuring hug. Merlin watched them all wearily as they came through the door, searching for signs of distrust or hate, but found none. So Merlin knows that Arthur hasn't told anyone, but has no idea what that means.
The next morning Merlin is past the point of fear and has moved right on to anger. Arthur has given him the cold shoulder for over a week, allowing him to stew in his anxiety and pain, wondering if each and every moment was going to be the moment.
He storms through the castle - or tries to, as much as his body will allow - ignoring the alarmed looks that people throw at him. Merlin only has one thing on his mind and it's finding out whether or not he needs to flee Camelot to save his skin.
Merlin shoves open Arthur's doors without preamble.
Arthur looks up from his writing desk and rolls his eyes, "Still not knocking, I see. You do remember that I'm the king, don't you?"
Merlin doesn't even pause, "What is your problem?"
"Sorry?" Arthur puts down the parchment he was reading, "My problem?"
"Do you even remember what happened? Dark, nasty cave? Monosyllabic wraith? Unbearable torture? Ringing any bells?" Merlin waves his arms and immediately winces, forgetting that his body is still an injured mess, "How can you just sit in here, while I'm down there wondering if at any minute the guard is going to kick down my door, and drag me to the chopping block?!"
Distantly Merlin thinks that this probably isn't his best move, antagonizing the very person he's trying to plead clemency to. Merlin exhales slowly, calming his turbulent emotions.
"I have magic, Arthur. I always have," Merlin's breath hitches and he's horrified to find his throat tightening and eyes stinging, "And I wanted to tell you, so many times. I'm sorry that you found out this way."
Merlin sniffs and scrubs his face with his sleeve, bracing himself for Arthur's reaction.
"Are you finished?" Arthur asks
Merlin nods.
"Good. Sit down before you fall down, you great idiot."
That's when Merlin notices that he's barely standing, leaning heavily enough that it would only take a soft breeze to knock him over. Arthur is at his side before he knows what's happening, shoving him into a nearby chair. Sweat beads up on his skin and Merlin wonders when it got so hot in Arthur's room.
"I'm to assume that Gaius doesn't know you're here," Arthur says.
"Snuck out. Gaius was asleep at the table," Merlin admits, pushing his face into his hands. He tries to ignore the way his head is pounding and the way his stomach turns.
Arthur doesn't say anything. Merlin can feel the king's eyes burning into the top of his head but he can't bring himself to meet Arthur's gaze. He came here with the intention of facing Arthur head on and learning his fate, but now that it's staring him in the face, he can't find the strength to look.
"Come on," Arthur says softly, "Let's get you back to Gaius."
Merlin's head snaps up and Arthur rolls his eyes, "Don't look so surprised. I can't very well have you pass out in my chambers. I do still have a kingdom to run."
Merlin gapes but Arthur deliberately ignores him, throwing one of Merlin's arms over his shoulders, "C'mon, before Gaius kills us both."
They move slowly through the castle, stopping three times for Merlin to pant against the cool marble walls.
Gaius doesn't move when they come stumbling into the room, attesting to how worn down the older man truly is. Arthur helps Merlin back to the cot, slowly lowering the smaller man as he hisses in pain.
"Really, Arthur, you don't have to…"
"Merlin, shut up."
"But…"
"Shut. Up."
Arthur sits on the stool that Gaius has been permanently attached to ever since they came back. Merlin watches him through pain-filled eyes but underneath the discomfort, Arthur can see the very real fear staring back at him.
Arthur can't stop himself from asking the question that has been haunting him, "What was it? The thing in the cave?"
Merlin swallows, "A Tulpa. Sometimes thoughts and emotions are so strong that they can actually create beings, thoughtforms," Merlin pauses, wondering if he should continue. "After your father died and you denounced magic, I felt...hopeless. I've always believed that one day magi users would be free of fear but in that moment it seemed impossible. It took days to snap out of it but by then it was too late, the Tulpa was already appearing in my dreams."
"You created a monster whose sole purpose was to reveal your magic? All because you were upset?" Arthur asks incredulously.
Merlin winces, "Well, not on purpose. It wasn't going to stop until it was satisfied, until you knew the truth. It had been following me for weeks..."
"Weeks? And you decided to carry on as normal and say nothing?" Arthur says, and rolls his eyes "Well done, Merlin. Brilliant plan."
"Well, I couldn't very well say, 'Arthur, a thoughtform is stalking me because hiding my magic is killing me,' could I?" Merlin bites back. He's angry. He's scared, and Arthur still doesn't understand.
"No," Arthur's sudden softness in his voice and admission is the last thing Merlin is expecting, "I suppose not."
"No?" Merlin asks cautiously.
"I feel as if I've spent every moment as reigning king trying not to make the same mistakes as my father," Arthur says, his eyes giving away weeks of exhaustion, "His people feared him. I don't want my kingdom to live in the same fear."
"I thought you'd be angry," Merlin whispers in awe.
"I was. I am. You lied to me all this time and I just..." Arthur shakes his head, unable to keep the residual anger and hurt from his voice, "I spent the whole journey home thinking you were going to die, and then the next few days contemplating how much of a beating I was going to give you."
Merlin cracks a smile, "What changed?"
Arthur meets his eyes resolutely, "I realized that anyone who was willing to do what you did couldn't be anything but good, magic or not. I'm sorry that you ever felt like you were better off being tortured than telling me the truth. It never should've been that way."
Merlin swallows, unable to speak. He squeezes his eyes shut, allowing the built up tears to escape,"Thank you. You have no idea…"
He stops to breathe, trying to regain his composure.
"Just one thing," Arthur says after a moment.
Merlin opens his eyes warily, "What?"
Arthur leans forward, his expression hard, "If you ever conjure a torturing, kidnapping wraith again, I'll kill you."
Merlin snorts but then frowns, "That's not funny."
But Arthur laughs, truly, and Merlin can't help but smile in return. They're going to be alright.