Beyond Recall

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! They were greatly appreciated.

So here we are: the last chapter! I actually think the story would work without the epilogue, but I'm assuming you want to read it, so I will post it in a couple of days.

This chapter was really hard to write; I think it's the hardest one I've ever done, but I wanted to do it justice. So hopefully, they are both in character. I tried really hard to make sure they were. I have to say, having the canon reveal does make these sort of conversations more difficult, so there are a few familiar themes running through, but hopefully it's also original (as much as these things can be in a fandom where it's been done hundreds of times!).

Anyway, enough from me. Here's the last chapter. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 29

There were still several paces distance between the two of them when Merlin stopped. Arthur saw him shuffling uncomfortably and felt his heart ache with the familiarity of it. He turned away, not knowing what to say or what to do. The compulsion to run, which had been so prevalent in him earlier, however, had disappeared; he felt no threat from Merlin, he was not worried about what the man might do. It seemed strange to him to be so close to someone with magic and be so convinced that they were not evil. Unless, of course, Merlin had fooled him in that regard as well.

'I need to talk to you,' Merlin said gently. Arthur felt a memory spark through him at the simple words. He wondered if this was some sort of game that Merlin was playing, trying to make him let his guard down, trying to make it seem like nothing had changed between them. He decided he would play along.

'I decide when we need to talk,' he replied, looking back at Merlin. The confusion on the man's face told Arthur that he had not intended to repeat the words he had said so many years ago, but understanding passed across his features. The smallest whisper of a smile touched his lips.

'Not today,' he whispered. Arthur turned back to look over the castle grounds, the breeze cooling his face.

'So I suppose, now,' he said, not looking at Merlin, 'you remember why you said you'd be my servant until the day you died.'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

Silence. Arthur sighed in irritation and turned around. Merlin had not moved from where he had been before.

'Come on, Merlin,' he growled, anger bubbling in the words. 'I don't think anything else you say can be any worse than what you've already admitted.'

'It isn't that,' he replied, matching Arthur's anger with an infuriating calmness.

'What then?'

'I need you to accept me as I am first of all; I don't want it to be an obligation.'

'Trust me, I feel no obligation whatsoever to accept you,' Arthur bit back. He saw the hurt pass across Merlin's face, felt his own guilt, despite his intentions to remain guilt free. 'You have magic, Merlin,' he said instead, his voice quiet, but fierce. 'How could you? You've seen how evil it is, you've seen-'

'Magic is not evil. I told you-'

'You told me yourself that magic was evil!' Arthur told him vehemently, throwing his arms up.

'What?'

'You've told me in the past that magic is evil, that those who use it are evil. And what's more,' he continued, pointing violently at Merlin, 'you've never tried to defend magic; you've never made any attempt to change my view of it. How can you claim that it can be used for good after spending years acting as if you believe the opposite?'

'I…,' Merlin frowned, but he seemed nervous, fearful. It infuriated Arthur.

'You what?' he prompted.

'I couldn't say what I really thought, could I; not without making you suspicious,' he began softly.

'Then why say anything at all?'

'It doesn't matter.'

'Yes, Merlin, it does!' Arthur replied. 'It matters because I need to understand why you would-'

'Why I would what? Sacrifice the chance of having magic accepted? Sacrifice the opportunity to change your mind and be who I truly am?' Merlin asked, his voice loud and angry. The change took Arthur by surprise. He had expected to be the one getting angry in this conversation –if it could be called that- the revelation that Merlin seemed equally angry made doubt trickle through him. He suppressed it, however; he was the one who had been lied to.

'Yes, exactly,' he replied.

'The same reason I do everything I do,' he muttered. 'To protect you, even when you're an ungrateful, arrogant-'

'I'm the King; you can't speak to me like that.'

'Try me,' Merlin challenged. 'Because I've been with you through everything, through every loss and victory; I have been there for you at every turn! And now you won't even listen to what I have to say; you won't believe anything I'm saying.'

'You lied to me for six years, Merlin!' he raged. 'Six years of lies and now you want me to believe you?'

'Yes, I do!' Merlin told him. 'Because even if I haven't told you the truth, you know that I'm speaking it now! You know it! What else have I got to hide, Arthur? What other secret could I have that would be more damaging than this one? You know who I am now; and even with magic, I'm the same person I've always been. The person who you trust, who you know is loyal only to you.'

Arthur shook his head, clenching his fists at his sides. He pushed off from the parapets and found himself walking along them, away from Merlin and away from his words, but they followed him anyway, ringing around his head. He tried to shut them out, but they broke through his defences. Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, he knew that Merlin was right: Arthur believed what he was saying. And if that was the case then he couldn't just rage and scream and hurl insults –the things that he wanted to do- because if he believed what Merlin was saying, then he had to be willing to listen; to do anything else would be to deny his own instincts. It would be foolish and childish.

He stormed across the space for a while longer; an internal struggle between hearing Merlin out and walking away from him occupying all his thoughts. It would be so easy to just walk back into the castle and send Merlin away. Easy in one way; the hardest thing he would ever have to do in another.

He paused on the spot his body turning between the door and Merlin, but eventually he faced him and walked back over. Six years of friendship, demanded that a chance be given, but that was all it was, and Arthur was not willing to remain silent through the exchange.

'Why did you lie to me for all those years?' he asked, his anger evident. He had expected Merlin to be meek in his responses; after all, Arthur was graciously giving him the chance that he evidently desired, but the man seemed equally fierce and defensive.

'When should I have told you?' he asked, an edge in his voice.

'What?'

'When would have been the best time? I'm interested to know your thoughts,' Merlin pressed sarcastically, a challenge in both his voice and his eyes.

'I don't know, but in six years, I'm willing to bet there was a moment when you could have mentioned it.'

'Perhaps when we first met? But then again, maybe not. A public execution on my first day in Camelot wasn't really my idea of a welcome.'

'Don't treat this like it's a joke,' Arthur warned him.

'How could I? Nothing about this is funny, nothing about this is easy. But I need you to understand what it was like for me. I need you to think about someone other than yourself.' Had Arthur been able to speak through his outrage, he would have given Merlin several choice words, but the man continued before he could. 'When should I have told you? When your father was King? Would you have wanted me to put you in that position?'

'I would've wanted the truth!'

'No you wouldn't,' Merlin told him with an emotionless laugh and a shake of his head.

'How would you know? You didn't give me the chance! This is about you and your fear of what I would've done.'

'That's not the only reason,' Merlin retorted, but he was less sure of himself now.

'If it was the fear of putting me in a difficult position then why didn't you tell me when I became king? What was stopping you then?'

'I watched you despair over Morgana,' Merlin replied. 'You watched your sister, someone who was so kind and caring, turn into a witch bent on revenge. What would you have said if I told you that I had magic too? That someone else you trusted had magic?'

'I don't know, but it would have been a lot better than finding out the way I did today,' Arthur told him, turning away once more. Now, Merlin did come closer, marginally. But Arthur found that more questions and arguments were coming into his mind and he felt a fire burning through his chest. He wanted this to be done and over and sorted, and until all the tangled thoughts were out of his head, that wasn't possible. He whirled round, making Merlin pause cautiously.

'And another thing: why did you even come to Camelot? You have magic Merlin!' he shouted the words so loudly that they echoed. 'Magic! Why would you come here?'

Merlin looked round in wide-eyed panic at Arthur's shouted words. It took a second for Arthur to realise that he was fearful of someone over hearing. He didn't want anyone else to find out. New anger filled Arthur.

'There's nobody up here to find out, Merlin! Besides, the King of Camelot knows you have magic; what the hell does it matter who else finds out now?' He glared at Merlin. 'Why did you come here, Merlin? Answer the question.'

'Because I was too conspicuous in Ealdor. I needed to disappear. It wasn't part of my plan to become your manservant.'

'No-one made you stay,' Arthur retorted.

'I know that, but…'

'But what?'

'But then it became my destiny to be at your side.' Arthur shook his head, a laugh breaking through his anger, but there was no humour in it.

'You don't know anything about destiny,' Arthur told him.

'Really?' Merlin asked. Now he really was angry.

'What could you possibly know?'

'More than you, that's for sure,' he replied through gritted teeth. 'You think because you're a king, you are the only one who understands responsibility, who understands having the weight of a kingdom on your shoulders.'

'And you know what that's like, do you?'

'Yes, I do,' Merlin told him forcefully. 'I've been fighting for Camelot and for you for years. Just because you don't see it, it doesn't mean it isn't there. This kingdom is one that we are both building, and I understand the weight of shaping her future.'

Arthur frowned at this, his anger momentarily forgotten. What was he talking about? What was he trying to say?

'This is my kingdom, Merlin. My responsibility. Being the King's manservant doesn't mean you have a share in that.'

'No, but being your protector and Camelot's protector does,' Merlin told him firmly.

'What the hell are you talking about?' Arthur asked him incredulously, but even as he said it, he saw something building up behind Merlin's eyes; as if he was about to start something for which he had been waiting years and years. As if another part of him was about to be revealed. Arthur felt both terrified and expectant.

'This is your kingdom, Arthur, and I would never claim that it wasn't,' he began, more quietly now, 'but you have not been protecting it alone. And you have always been protected yourself.'

'What…?' but he was beginning to get the picture.

'How are either of us alive, Arthur?' Merlin asked him with shrug. 'How, after everything, are we still here? How do you think we survive? How do you think you recover from wounds and illnesses that should be fatal? How does Camelot live through powerful magical attacks?' His eyes were sad now, his stance one of defeat, though Arthur couldn't work out why. In truth, that wasn't what he was focussing on. Merlin's words were the only things that had his attention. He frowned again as he considered them, but then an undeniable truth began to filter into his mind; things became clearer as he thought back over the things that he and Camelot had somehow, against all odds, endured and survived.

Looking up at Merlin, who seemed so small and so unsure at that moment, Arthur could hardly believe the implications of the words, but then he remembered seeing Tiden consumed by power, remembered seeing how confidently Merlin had stood, his hands outstretched, his eyes glowing gold. He had felt the power himself.

Since he had discovered Merlin's secret, he had never once considered the possibility that Merlin's truly powerful use of magic had been a frequent occurrence in Camelot. He had assumed the magical use had been small, insignificant, unimportant. Because surely he would have felt it, surely he would have known, surely Merlin would have hinted at the fact that he deserved some credit. Arthur would have done.

'You…?' Arthur asked, still frowning, still attempting to solidify the understanding in his mind. 'Lady Helen?' he said instead.

'What?'

'Lady Helen,' Arthur pressed. 'You pulled me out of the way of her knife.'

'I know. I've been paying for it ever since.' Arthur didn't respond to the jibe, seeing it for what it really was: a deflection. Merlin sighed. 'So?' he asked.

'So…' Arthur shook his head, trying to picture that day. It had been such a long time ago; it had been so long since he'd even thought on it, and yet now he dragged the memory back up, searching out Merlin in the Great Hall on that distant day. 'You were…you were at the side of the room when she threw it…nowhere near me…' he looked up at Merlin for confirmation. He gave none, just stood waiting for Arthur. 'So how did you pull me away?'

'I'm really fast,' Merlin murmured, but he held Arthur's gaze. Arthur said nothing. Merlin sighed and looked at the floor. 'I slowed down time,' he said, looking back up.

'What?' Arthur felt his face drop at the words. 'You…' he shook his head. 'You did what?'

'I slowed down time. It was the only way I could reach you.'

Arthur stared at him dumbfounded for a while longer, before his mind started turning again. But when it did, he only found that it became clogged with more and more questions, more and more possibilities, more and more demonstrations of a power that Arthur would never have believed existed, especially not in Merlin.

'What else?' he asked.

'What do you mean?'

'What else have you done, Merlin?'

'Enough,' he nodded. 'Enough to keep you safe, to keep you alive.'

'I want to know.'

'I don't know if you do,' Merlin told him, sadly. The look on Merlin's face made Arthur pause for a moment, uncertain suddenly at the sadness in him, but curiosity got the better of him.

'Tell me,' he said firmly, but it only caused Merlin to sigh and step back slightly. Arthur could sense the man closing himself up, and found that he couldn't allow it. He had to know what else he owed to Merlin. Slowly, he closed the gap between them, removed the frown from his face and locked eyes with the one person he had trusted above all others. 'Please, Merlin. I'd like to know.'

Arthur knew from the moment he said it, that Merlin would answer his request, but he still took several seconds to nod. Arthur wondered why, but a thought came to him as he watched resolve flood into Merlin's face. Before him stood a man who had spent years hiding everything he was and everything he had done. And now Arthur was asking him to reveal all of that, to come out from the secrets and the hidden things of his past, leaving only himself behind.

Once he had explained to Arthur, once he had obeyed the request, Merlin would be more vulnerable than he had ever been in his life. Arthur felt his anger beginning to slip away.

'Alright,' Merlin nodded. 'I'll tell you the story you don't know.'

In the end, it wasn't the whole story that Merlin gave to Arthur. There were some things that he would only be able to tell the King as time went by, there were other things that really were his own secrets to keep, just as anyone else was entitled to their hidden places. But it was enough of the story to give Arthur a picture of what had happened in the shadows; of what events Merlin had been orchestrating behind the scenes; of how much he had been a part of ensuring Camelot's safety.

He told Arthur about things that he hadn't thought on for years. Valiant's shield, the troll step-mother, numerous fights and skirmishes, the cup of life, Arthur's quest, the sword in the stone, Lamia, Cornelius Sigan. It felt surreal to be speaking out the words, to be showing Arthur parts of his life that he had fought so hard to keep hidden from the man. A strange embarrassment came over him, and he downplayed much of what he was saying, feeling security in the humility that had been forced upon him for so many years. He had always said that he didn't want recognition, but he had never been entirely sure. Did a part of him want people to know what he was capable of; did he want people to understand his abilities? The more he spoke to Arthur, the more he realised that he didn't want those things after all. Yes, Arthur needed the truth at the moment, and yes, Merlin wanted to tell him, but the thought of his actions being made public frightened him. He wanted to be seen as himself, not just as a sorcerer. When it came down to it, he had done all those things for Arthur, not for any recognition or for any reward.

And so he continued talking, but with caution; simply stating what had happened and what he had done about it.

At first, Arthur asked questions frequently, a completely foreign interest in what Merlin had to say seeming to take over him, but as Merlin went on and related more of his exploits, the King drew into himself. Merlin watched the change with a terrible trepidation. Arthur had gone from amazed disbelief, to an odd neutrality, to a grieving acceptance. It was easy to see on his face: he was pale, his mouth was turned down and his eyes were heavy. But still Merlin talked. Stopping now, meant having to ask why Arthur was looking at him with such regret; he wanted to put that off for as long as possible, but as the night began to lighten into an early dawn, Merlin found that he had run out of things that he was willing to share. His throat hurt and his heart felt oddly heavy. More than that, he was utterly exhausted. He had been talking for a long time while Arthur had remained quiet, listening carefully, fearfully, sadly, but listening nonetheless: something that Merlin had never experienced before, not for that length of time.

'Is that everything?' Arthur asked him, when the silence had gone on for a minute or so.

'No,' Merlin told him; the thought of lying didn't even cross his mind; there was no point anymore. 'But, it's all I'm going to say for now. I hope you can understand that.'

Arthur nodded, but said nothing. He, too, looked drained. He was sitting with his back to the parapets. At some point in the night, they had both sat down; it was that or fall down. Merlin, who was sat only an arm's length away, had his knees tucked up to his chest, awaiting whatever would come next. He had said all he could; he had told Arthur the truth. He had nothing left to give.

They sat in silence for a long time, but the longer it went on, the more it felt like silence was the only possibility; it hardened into a shield that was more and more difficult to break. Merlin could see Arthur from the corner of his eye, could see the focus in his gaze, could see the way his expression had frozen in a frown. It was evident that he was processing all that Merlin had said, his concentration was absolute. Merlin, on the other hand, had nothing else to think on. The longer the silence went on, the more he found himself succumbing, instead, to a deep fear of what Arthur was going to say next. While telling his side of the story, he had found a confidence in the certainty of what he had done and been for all these years. Now, he felt only a terrible uncertainty for the future, as if the time they had spent talking –shouting- on the battlements had been an interlude, a step outside of their lives. What lay ahead was reality; one that couldn't possibly continue as it had before. A mixture of the dawn chill and his own nervousness caused Merlin to shiver. He wrapped his jacket more tightly around himself. The sound, though, roused Arthur from his meditation. He breathed deeply and then turned to Merlin.

'You should go in.'

'No, I'm fine,' Merlin told him.

'You look like you haven't slept for days.'

Merlin couldn't argue with him there. Even today he hadn't caught up on any sleep. He had helped Gaius and his mother treat the people who were sent up to them, and had kept Gaius supplied with everything he needed to treat people in the rest of the castle. He had kept Peter comfy and well-looked after, sending Gwaine away when the knight turned up to take Peter to the dungeons. In all fairness, the knight hadn't taken too much convincing and had said he would keep Peter's whereabouts to himself. And then in the afternoon, Merlin had gone into the forest to bury James. He closed his eyes at the memory.

'I haven't, really, but neither have you.' Arthur shrugged and fell silent once more, but Merlin was unwilling to wait any longer. He had had six years to worry over what Arthur would do when he finally found out; he couldn't do that any longer.

'Arthur,' he began, waiting until he had the King's attention to carry on. 'I know that this has changed everything, and that these last few days have been hard, but-'

'I want you to go to Cyathia.'

Merlin felt as if he was falling into a dream. His stomach curled in panic and his throat constricted.

'Arthur, I know this is difficult,' he stammered, panic twisting though him, 'and I know that it affects us, but you have to believe me: I only ever did-'

'Merlin.'

'-what I thought was for the best.'

'Merlin,' Arthur tried again, but Merlin just wanted to drown out whatever he was going to say.

'And surely you know I would never have gone along with Tiden at any point if I'd remembered the truth.'

'Merlin!' This time it was a shout, which made him jump. He fell silent as he looked at Arthur's infuriated face. 'I know that you would never have done it if you'd had your memories. The way I reacted before…I was angry and shocked, that's all.'

'Then why send me to Cyathia?' Merlin asked desperately, but before he could wallow too much in self-pity, he found determination flooding through him: he wouldn't let this be how things ended between himself and Arthur. He wouldn't let it all be for nothing. 'I'm not going,' he said firmly, shaking his head as Arthur frowned.

'What?'

'I'm not going. You know, technically, I'm not even a citizen of Camelot, so I'm not bound to do as you ask.'

'Merlin,' Arthur growled.

'I haven't spent all these years by your side just for you to turn against me now.'

'What the hell are you talking about?' Arthur asked, but Merlin found that the words were oddly distant. Instead, his mind was going over ways that he could remain in Camelot without Arthur's knowledge. He had plenty of options. A disguise would be easy enough, especially with magic, and the city was big enough to hide him, as long as he was careful about where he went.

'I'm not going to Cyathia, or anywhere else for that matter. You won't be able to banish me anyway.'

'Banish you?'

'I can hide in Camelot easily. I managed it for ages when your father was trying to arrest me that time.'

'Merlin! For once in your life, shut up and listen!' This time he did stop; he knew that tone well enough to know it was not one to be crossed. He looked at Arthur, but kept his expression fierce. He would not back down on this. 'I'm not banishing you to Cyathia,' he said incredulously. Merlin tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, changed his mind and then spoke anyway.

'You're not?'

'No.'

'But…you just said you want me to go to Cyathia.'

'I do, but not as a banishment,' he exclaimed, looking somewhat infuriated as he glared at Merlin.

'Then…why?'

'Merlin, Cyathia's King and dozens of their soldiers have just died in Camelot, I have nearly a hundred Cyathians locked up in my dungeons, and somehow I need to convince them and everyone else in that kingdom that I am not trying to wage war on them.'

'So I'm…?'

'So you're going as an envoy. One that comes back afterwards,' Arthur finished.

Merlin eyes went wide in understanding and he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

'Oh,' he murmured. 'Well, that's fine then. I can do that.'

'Good,' Arthur told him, sighing emphatically.

'So you and I…?' Merlin ventured. At the words, Arthur sobered considerably and Merlin realised anew that all was not as he wanted it to be. He waited, sensing that Arthur was choosing his words carefully. After a moment, he turned from where he had been leaning against the wall, so that he was facing Merlin. Merlin mirrored his movements.

'I can not pretend that I am alright with everything.' He looked down and sighed, but he fixed his eyes on Merlin once more. 'I understand why you didn't tell me, but…' he laughed sadly, '…we were friends, Merlin. You know we were.' He shook his head. 'It will take time for me to accept that you said nothing…'

'Arthur…' Merlin tried.

'Just hear me out Merlin,' he said. The words were spoken so softly that Merlin felt compelled to obey, even if his heart was crying out at the way their friendship was being referred to as a thing of the past. 'I need time to understand who you are, properly this time. Time to rethink everything I thought I already knew about magic and Camelot's strength.' He paused for several moments and Merlin could see him battling with something. Whatever he said next was not something that he was saying easily or lightly. He looked up at Merlin, holding his gaze.

'I need time to work out how I can say sorry to you for never treating you as I should have.'

'Arthur there's no need-'

'Merlin.' Merlin snapped his mouth shut. 'And I need time to work out how I can ever thank you for what you've done.'

Had Merlin wanted to speak at that point, he wouldn't have been able to. The sincerity in Arthur's words, the emotion in them… It was more than he had ever hoped for. He felt tears come into his eyes, but they weren't tears of pride or even tears of joy –though that emotion was coursing through him. No, the tears were ones of utter relief. He felt the terrible coiling in his chest unwind and disappear, felt his lungs breathe more easily once again. He swallowed and nodded at Arthur, unable to do anything else and knowing that anything else would embarrass Arthur anyway. The King did seem to be struggling with the way he was baring his soul. He dropped his eyes from Merlin's and coughed to clear his throat.

'I also need time to figure out how the hell I can keep you as my manservant now I know what you can do,' he continued, his tone lighter. Merlin smiled; he knew what the display of emotion would have taken for Arthur and he knew that it wasn't something the man could sustain for very long.

'I wouldn't worry about that,' Merlin told him. 'I was destined to be your servant.'

'I really don't think you were, Merlin. For one thing, you're terrible at it –although in recent weeks I've seen an improvement.' Merlin couldn't contain a guilty smile; he couldn't believe how hard he'd worked as Arthur's servant over the last few days. '- and for another…' he shrugged and shook his head, '…your skills are too valuable and unique to be used only as a servant.'

'Then maybe my destiny isn't to be your servant,' Merlin said gently.

'No?'

'Maybe it's just to serve you,' he shrugged, 'in whatever way that may be.'

He looked over to see Arthur nod, a small smile on his face.

'Maybe,' he agreed. 'And I'm grateful…my friend.'

Merlin said nothing, but he breathed in deeply at the words, allowing them to flow over him like a cool breeze on a hot day. Both of them knew the weight of that one word.

'So, now are you going to tell me?' Arthur asked. Merlin frowned.

'Haven't I told you enough for one day?' he asked. He gave a sideways glance towards the King and saw him smiling.

'This is the last thing I'll ask.'

'Alright,' he sighed. 'Tell you what?'

'Why you told me you'd be my servant until the day you died?'

'Oh,' Merlin breathed. He saw Arthur turn to look at him, waiting with more patience than was usual. Merlin considered the question; he had meant what he said before, he didn't want Arthur to feel an obligation, as if he owed Merlin another chance, but perhaps that wasn't an issue anymore. Still, he wasn't entirely sure how Arthur would react. Maybe it was time to find out. 'It was just after you'd recovered from the bite that the questing beast gave you.'

'I know.'

'The fatal bite of the questing beast,' Merlin said pointedly. He saw Arthur frown and then watched his eyes widen in understanding.

'Gaius never cured me,' he murmured.

'No. There was no cure, Arthur. You were going to die.'

'Then…'

'There was one way that I could save you…' he paused and put his head back for a moment, but then continued on. 'I travelled to the Isle of the Blessed and I…'

'Merlin?'

'Nimueh was there and I made a trade with her,' he whispered.

'Nimueh?' Arthur frowned. 'But she disappeared. She…' he trailed off and then turned to Merlin. 'What trade?' he asked gravely.

'My life for yours,' he said quickly, not daring to look at Arthur.

'Merlin!'

'You were going to die! I had to do something.'

'I don't want people to die for me,' Arthur told him firmly.

'I know, but people will, Arthur. They'll follow you and they'll die for you because you are worth the sacrifice.'

'Merlin-'

'It's true,' he insisted. Silence followed for a few moments, before Arthur spoke again.

'So on the night you spoke to me, you were…saying goodbye?'

'Yes. I hadn't thought I'd be alive to see you wake up. Nimueh tricked me. She traded my mother's life instead. My mother turned up in Camelot dying, and I knew that she'd been used as the sacrifice. So the night I came to see you I was preparing to travel back to the Isle of the Blessed and make another trade.'

'Your life for your mother's?'

'Yes.'

'Then, when you came to see me…'

'I wasn't expecting to see you again.'

A breeze ripped across the top of the battlement at that moment, silencing their conversation. It was several seconds later before either spoke.

'So what happened?' Arthur pressed. 'I'm alive, you're alive, your mother's alive.'

'When I went to go the next morning, Gaius had gone in my place.'

'Gaius?'

'Oh,' Merlin said, wide-eyed. 'Erm…he knows…about me, I mean.'

'I guessed,' Arthur said drily.

'Oh, that's alright then. I think.'

'What happened, Merlin?' Arthur sighed.

'I followed him back there. He was already dead when I arrived, but Nimueh was there again. She tried to make me join her. I refused. And then I killed, swapping her life for Gaius'. In the end, she was the life that was traded for yours.'

'Wait, you…' Merlin turned at the confusion in Arthur's voice. 'You killed Nimueh?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'You?'

'Yes,' Merlin frowned. How much clearer did he have to make it?

'She was a strong sorceress, Merlin.'

'I know, but…' he tailed off. He didn't want to draw attention to his abilities anymore. He had told Arthur what he wanted to know; that was all that mattered.

'…you're stronger,' Arthur finished for him. Merlin nodded slowly. 'I…' he continued after a few moments, as if searching for the words he wanted to say. In the end he sighed and looked at Merlin. 'Thank you,' he said simply, as if he didn't know what else he could do or say. Merlin just shrugged and smiled and then they both returned to their silence.

More time passed, but eventually, something seemed to stir them both. Slowly, stretching his limbs as he did, Arthur stood up. Merlin followed suit, groaning at the stiffness in his legs and the way his joints cracked. How long had they been sitting there? His question was answered as he turned to look over the battlements. The sun was beginning to rise. Arthur was already looking out over the land, his face bright in the first rays of light.

'Do you remember the morning after my father died? You'd sat outside that room all night.' Merlin felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him.

'I remember.'

'Do you remember what I said to you?' he asked, turning. Merlin smiled and looked at his friend, nodding slowly.

'You said it's a new day.'

The King looked back over the battlements and Merlin stepped up beside him, their eyes fixed on the rising sun.

'I think this is another one.'

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.