News came to the court of Camelot from the East, word of Sir Ranulf's death at the hands of a sorcerer named Osgar. Arthur personally led a patrol to hunt down and capture the man responsible for the death of his boyhood friend and loyal knight. Whatever the king's feelings toward sorcerers and magic – and he was now uncertain what those were – he would ensure justice was served when a crime had been committed.

Gwaine spotted the tracks in the forest and Percival found the scrap of cloth which indicated Osgar had recently fled that way, likely knowing Arthur's patrol was close on his heels. The knights split up, combing the forest while the king waited with Merlin and Leon by his side. At the sound of a man approaching through the trees, Arthur spun around, both his and Leon's hands going to their sword hilts.

Osgar had been severely wounded. One hand clutched his belly as he limped toward them to drop on his knees before Arthur, but his head was held high. "Sire, my name is Osgar."

"I know who you are," the king said.

"I have been sent by the Disir to pass judgement on Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King," the sorcerer said.

Leon was offended by the man's audacity. "What right have you to pass judgement?"

"No one is above the Disir, however royal," was the measured response. The injured man did not appeared frightened although both Arthur and his knight stood with swords drawn. "It is my duty to pass their judgement on to you, dread king." His voice grew weaker, his hand unable to staunch the flow of blood from his wound. "My sacred duty."

He reached into his cloak with his free hand causing Arthur and Leon to tense and raise their swords slightly. Osgar paused at their action and then slowly withdrew, not a weapon, but some kind of coin or mark.

"Your hand, Arthur Pendragon," he ordered as if he were the royal despite being on his knees.

Arthur extended his left hand, keeping his sword clasped in his right. Osgar reverently placed the coin into Arthur's outstretched hand with both of his. Briefly the sorcerer held his fingers over the mark he had laid on Arthur's palm as though blessing it.

"It is done."

"What's the meaning of this?" Arthur demanded.

"It is both judgement and fate. You have waged war on magic, now the ancient gods answer you. The Disir have spoken, the circle of fate begins to close, for even as Camelot flowers the seeds of her destruction are being sewn." The cadence of his tone was like a prophecy or a pronouncement of fate.

Arthur did not bother to hide his impatience. "What nonsense is this?"

"It is not too late, Arthur, not too late to find the true path." The man began to collapse. "Redeem yourself. No further chance shall be given." With those final words Osgar crumpled to the ground.

For a brief moment Arthur stared down at the dead man, then he called his knights to regroup. Gwaine and Elyan were found unconscious but without visible wounds, their swords a good distance from their hands. Apparently the sorcerer had given a good account of himself, but Gwaine's second blade was bloody indicating who had dealt Osgar the fatal blow.

The king ordered a camp to be set up where they would wait until Gwaine and Elyan recovered. Merlin treated the wounded knights while the others celebrated their victory.

"How are they?" Arthur asked as Merlin approached the fire to help himself to the stew simmering in the camp pot. The others had long since finished their meal and were passing around skins of wine.

"They'll both make a full recovery." Merlin crouched by the fire to dish up his food and did not look at the king.

Ranulf's killer had rightfully met his end at the hands of a Camelot knight and Arthur refused to allow Merlin's somber tone to dampen his mood. The king wondered if the other man was sympathetic to the dead criminal merely on the grounds they were both sorcerers, even though Osgar had committed murder.

"Come, Merlin, warm yourself, have a drink," Arthur said. "We've triumphed."

The king's servant turned to face him and Arthur rolled his eyes at the serious look on Merlin's face. Apparently he was determined to kill the celebratory atmosphere.

"Osgar could have easily killed you," Merlin said.

"He didn't, did he?" That was supposed to be a good thing.

"He was a sorcerer, it was well within his power."

The king's good mood dissipated. "He was deranged." Whatever kinship Merlin felt with the dead man, surely he agreed that anyone who attacked Camelot's knights had chosen to be an enemy and was subject to the kingdom's justice. Osgar had taken arms against them more than once, with no discernable purpose Arthur could see.

"The rune mark –" Merlin began.

"A trinket, nothing more," Arthur interrupted, determined to put an end to the conversation. "Here." He tossed the item to Merlin. "I'll have the jewel mounted as a memento of our success."

By the next morning both Gwaine and Elyan were recovered and Arthur gave the order to strike camp and return to Camelot. He put up with Merlin's stony countenance throughout the journey hoping the man would cheer up once they were home, but instead Arthur was forced to endure his servant's glum face for another two days. He was even addressing the king respectfully and there had not been a single joke about Arthur's weight or intelligence since their return.

"Are you feeling all right, Merlin?" the king asked as he followed his servant down the palace corridor.

"Fine, my lord." Merlin did not stop walking or glance back.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the continued uncharacteristic deference in addressing him as 'my lord' instead of 'cabbage head' or 'clotpole.' "More and more I find your face resembles the back end of a cat." He hoped insulting Merlin would provoke some reaction other than the gloomy expression which had been pasted to the man's face since the incident with Osgar but it did not. "See, you don't even laugh at my jokes anymore! Seriously, I haven't seen you smile these past three days," Arthur said in frustration.

Merlin stopped and turned to face him. "I'm not sure there's a great deal to smile about."

With that he turned on his heel and resumed walking. Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh and followed his sulky manservant to Gaius' chamber. He could guess why Merlin had arranged this meeting; not having gotten anywhere in his attempts to convince the king of the significance of the rune mark he had enlisted his guardian's help. Now the two of them were going to gang up on the king about this ridiculous token.

Arthur had come to the conclusion that his loyal advisor had to be aware his ward was a sorcerer, in fact had most likely been teaching the boy magic. That the respected Court Physician had been doing so right under Uther's nose, protecting his adopted son in defiance of the laws, was a sobering thought. Although Gaius had tried to tell him once, going so far as to admit he countenanced magic. Given that at the time the old man had just suffered through kidnap and torture, Arthur had not held him to account for his heretical views but now the extent of his law-breaking was clear. Sooner or later the king would have to decide what to do about that.

His servant led the way into the cluttered workroom wearing the stony expression that had become habitual since Osgar delivered his judgement.

"Sire, thank you for coming," Gaius said respectfully.

"Don't tell me Merlin's got you believing his nonsense, Gaius?" The king's tone was light but the physician did not smile.

The old man sat at his work table, the one usually piled high with books or experiments. At the moment, there was a small stack of books and the king assumed his court physician had researched the mark Arthur had gifted to Merlin.

"This is a rune mark, my lord," Gaius said, referring to that very item.

"So everyone keeps telling me." Arthur took a seat and glanced up at his servant who stood with arms crossed, staring down at him.

The physician turned the mark over in his hands as he continued to speak. "In times past this mark aroused great fear. It was given to those found wanting by the court of the Disir."

"The Disir?" Merlin asked for him when Arthur refused to show any curiosity.

"The highest court of the Old Religion. Three women were chosen at birth to be seers and soothsayers, their entire task was to interpret the word of the triple goddess. When they sat in judgement their word was final." Gaius' expression was grave, as though such a judgement still carried weight.

The king would have to be the voice of reason here. "This worn-out superstition has no relevance now. I can't see what bearing it has on me or Camelot."

"Because, Sire, the Disir have seen fit to give you this. This is the judgement of the gods against you."

The old man's serious tone gave Arthur pause. "This is nonsense, surely." He hoped his voice had not betrayed a tiny sliver of foreboding.

"The Old Religion held that the rune mark not only contained a man's guilt but the path that the gods had chosen for him. That is why it is both a judgement and fate."

Arthur decided enough was enough. "I make my own path." He stood and walked to the door.

"Do you?"

Arthur paused as Gaius's words caught up with him.

"It is said that only the gods can alter a man's fate and even then only when he repents and appeases them."

The king turned to face the old man where he sat holding the rune mark. "You don't believe any of this, Gaius?"

The physician tossed the coin-like item on his work table. "I am an old man, Sire, old enough to be wary of dismissing other peoples' beliefs."

Arthur did not respond, but he walked over to the table and retrieved the rune mark before he left.

Later that day as Merlin was assisting him Arthur could not contain his frustration any longer. "Have I not made Camelot a fairer and more just kingdom?"

"You have, my lord."

Again with the respectful 'my lord.' Arthur gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"Have I not rid it of the cruelties and injustices of the past?" Let Merlin try to deny Arthur was not the vindictive tyrant his father had turned into at the mere mention of magic.

"You have."

Although Merlin had agreed with him, Arthur did not feel it had been a ringing endorsement. A tiny voice inside him whispered that if his friend were truly convinced of his fairness and sense of justice then Merlin would have admitted by now what he was. "I am not my father," Arthur protested aloud, both to his servant and his own inner voice.

"I know." It sounded sincere.

Arthur gave his friend ample time to say the words that would prove his trust, but although there was a conflicted look on the dark-haired man's face he said nothing more.

"Then why do they judge me so?" Arthur demanded. And why don't you trust me enough to tell me the truth, he added silently.

"I'm not sure I'm the person to ask." There was a haunted look in his servant's eyes now.

"I am asking you, Merlin, man to man," Arthur said steadily, waiting, hoping.

"Perhaps they feel you're worthy enough to be judged," Merlin said.

For a moment Arthur did not follow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Judgement is wasted on a man who won't listen."

The statement gave Arthur pause, wondering if the Disir felt that his tempering of the persecution of sorcery, his truce with the Druids, was not enough. Maybe, like Merlin, they were waiting for some further sign of his commitment to real change. "You think I should take them seriously?"

Merlin wore his wise advisor face. "I think you already have."

Arthur stared at his friend for a long moment.

Finally Merlin broke the silence. "If there's nothing else?"

"No, thank you." Arthur watched his servant leave, wondering what he was supposed to do to earn his friend's trust, to appease these ancient gods if they existed, to prove himself worthy to everyone who doubted him.

King Arthur sat in front of the small work table in his chamber but parchment, ink and quills remained untouched. He was rolling the mark between his fingers, staring at it as if it held the answers to all his questions but stubbornly refused to enlighten him.

Guinevere came in with a tray of food. "Arthur, I thought you might be hungry, you ate nothing at supper."

"Thank you, that's kind." He smiled gratefully at her before his gaze was drawn back to the mark. He flipped it between his fingers, looking at it from every angle, trying to discern its secrets.

Guinevere sat on the arm of his chair. "He was a deranged, desperate man, you said so."

"Merlin was right, he could have killed me but instead he thought it was more important to give me this, and he gave his life doing so." Arthur held up the rune mark.

"Who can fathom the mind of a fanatic?"

He could hear the frustration in her voice and appreciated her efforts to ease his self-doubt even though those efforts were failing. "It wasn't what was in his eyes, Guinevere. There was no hatred there, it was something else, pity almost. Why would a sorcerer pity a king?" It was a comfort to say the words out loud, to share with her the burden of his doubt. In their years of marriage the only thing he had not told her was his discovery of Merlin's magic, and that only because he felt it was not his secret to share. He was convinced she did not know, nor did any of the knights, even Gwaine. It was a consolation to know Merlin had hidden the truth from everyone else as well.

"Come, eat something," Guinevere urged.

"What if the Disir are right? What if there is something I am supposed to do and I haven't done it?" What was it Merlin was waiting for before he confessed the truth about himself?

"Arthur, you are a good and just king."

"The Disir don't seem to think so." Not that the judgement of hither-to unheard of ancient gods was as disheartening as his friend's lack of faith in him.

"That is because they don't know you like I do. If they did they would feel nothing but love."

She wove her fingers into his hair and he leaned his head against her comforting warmth. He allowed her sympathy and caring to soothe his troubled mind but he could not let go of the questions that had been raised recently: by the Disir, by the discovery that a trusted friend had been lying to him since the day they met.

It was not yet dawn when Arthur pounded on Gaius' door loud enough to wake the occupants of the physician's chamber despite the early hour. A cat hissed at the banging and bolted down the corridor.

Gaius unbarred the door in his night clothes. "My lord?"

The king was still dressed since he had not gone to bed. "Where can I find the Disir?"

"Sire?"

Arthur was in no mood to deal with any more false protestations of ignorance. "If anyone knows how to find them it's you."

"Until yesterday I didn't know they still existed," the old man protested.

"They do, as we know." Arthur held up the rune mark in the physician's face. "Again, where can I find them?"

"Sire, I do not think it is wise –"

"Gaius, do I look like a man to trifle with?"

The physician took one look and rattled off the location of the ancient pool used by the Disir to make their divinations. Arthur was fairly certain that from Gaius' description he could locate the source of the spring in the grove of yew trees in the White Mountains.

"Thank you." The king turned his attention to Merlin, standing in the middle of the room, also in his night clothes with a solemn look on his face. "We leave within the hour," Arthur ordered curtly. He turned on his heel and marched away down the corridor.

The two of them made their way out of the city at first light. They left the well-travelled roads around Camelot to head across open country dotted with scrub brush and rocky outcroppings, making good speed toward the White Mountains. When they reached the hill above the sacred grove Gaius had described, they paused to look down at their destination and Arthur glanced over at his companion who had remained uncharacteristically silent during the trip. He could not read the look Merlin gave him.

At the edge of the grove, they tethered their horses and made their way into the thicket on foot. Totems made of twigs hung in the trees and Arthur brushed them aside as he forced his way further into the dense woods. Finally the trees gave way to a tiny clearing which sheltered the entrance to a cave. Arthur strode forward but Merlin's voice stopped him.

"My lord."

"What is it, Merlin?" he demanded impatiently.

"This place is sacred."

Arthur looked at the opening in the ground covered by dense undergrowth and shielded by yew trees. "It's a cave, Merlin," he pointed out.

"It's more than that."

Arthur studied the strange look on his servant's face and glanced back at the opening. Merlin's rapt gaze was riveted on the emptiness beyond the mouth of the cave but Arthur knew only that whoever or whatever was in that dark place, their messenger had killed one of his knights. "It's a cave, the same as any other."

Merlin turned his gaze from the cave to Arthur's royal sword. "You can't go armed into a sacred place."

Arthur felt his eyebrows shoot up. "You want us to go in there unarmed?" He almost laughed but his friend's grave expression sobered him. "Of all the ridiculous things you've ever said, Merlin, and there's been a few, that is the most ridiculous by far." Without wasting another moment Arthur turned and strode into the cave mouth certain Merlin would follow at his heels.

It was several degrees cooler inside the cave than it had been in the bright sunshine outside. Tree roots grew profusely throughout the cavern, occasionally forcing them to duck to continue their forward progress. More totems similar to those Arthur had seen in the grove decorated the enclosed space so thickly that Arthur had to bat one aside. It swung back to smack him in the face and impatiently he knocked it to the sandy floor. The smell of dank vegetation choked the air. Arthur wondered how they were able to see inside the cavern even though sunlight did not penetrate past the cave's opening.

Finally the narrow passageway let out into a wide open cavern, a spring-fed pool in its centre. Arthur looked up but he could not make out the ceiling of the cave nor could he determine the source of the dim light which eerily filled the space. At the far side of the pool, standing on the rocks as though on a stage, stood three figures wearing hooded cloaks, each holding a tall staff with a cone-shaped point. Although he could not see their faces, he was certain they glared down at him disapprovingly.

"We have been expecting you," one of them said. He could not tell which.

"I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. I've come to know the meaning of this." He tossed the rune mark on the sand beside the pool. "This grove is in the kingdom of Camelot, subject to its laws, its decrees. Every man, however humble, however noble, has the right to be judged only by his peers yet you judge me in my absence. Explain yourselves." He folded his arms and waited for them to respond.

They spoke one at a time, although it seemed to be all one sentence, almost as if the three women were speaking with one mind.

"We do not judge."

"We do not condemn."

"We are but the messenger of the one who presides over all."

"Who sees all."

"Who knows all."

"The triple goddess."

The last was said in unison and Arthur gave up trying to follow which one of the hooded figures was speaking.

"And you, Arthur Pendragon, have angered her."

His head came up at that. "How so? Have I not been an honourable king? Have I not made Camelot a fair and just kingdom?"

"So much is true, but your laws promote hatred."

"Fear."

"Persecution."

"Even unto slaughter."

"I fight against superstition and dispense justice to criminals, that is all," he protested.

"End the oppression of magic, Arthur."

"Or risk the ire of the goddess."

"The destruction of everything you most value."

"The end of your reign."

"The fall of Camelot itself."

His actions hardly justified such a sentence. "I refuse to be judged by those who do not know me."

"You are known, Arthur."

"You have always been known."

"And now you come here to the most sacred of the sacred."

"To the very heart of the Old Religion."

"Carrying weapons."

"Trampling hallowed relics."

"Treating our sacred space like you do your kingdom – with arrogance!"

"With conceit!"

"With insolence!"

"You are not worthy of the loyalty of those who serve you faithfully."

Arthur heard a swift indrawn breath behind him but he did not turn. His eyes remained fixed on the three heavily cloaked figures standing above him holding their staffs, addressing him as though he were an errant child, and realized they knew. They knew about Merlin, and they were aware that he knew. But he did not understand what they expected him to do about it. It was hardly his fault that his servant had not confided the truth to him despite their years of friendship. He had softened the kingdom's stance against sorcery; he had made peace with the Druids allowing them to practice the Old Religion and even to practice magic within their own camps. There had been no further beheadings or burnings unless sorcery was used in a crime. Surely there was nothing more he could do to prove his tolerance and sense of justice.

"Arthur Pendragon."

"King of Camelot."

"Embrace magic."

"Learn its ways."

"Accept our people."

They were asking him to overturn the laws of the kingdom, to reverse his father's decrees, to go beyond mere tolerance. "You know I can't do that." It came out instinctively but then he asked himself if he could. If he should.

"Consider carefully."

Arthur stared from one to the other of the mysterious figures but they were done speaking. They would say nothing further nor answer his questions with anything other than the cryptic phrases they had already given him. Knowing he had been dismissed, Arthur turned and led the way back out of the cave.

He stepped into the sunshine, blinking, allowing his eyes to focus on the grove surrounding the little open space. The heat of the day was welcome after the cool dampness of the cavern. He took several steps away from the dark opening of the cave to seat himself on the ground with his back to a yew tree. Merlin looked at him in puzzlement and Arthur gestured at his companion to sit.

As soon as his friend was seated Arthur pinned him with a look. "How did you know this place was sacred?"

"That's obvious."

"Pretend it isn't," Arthur said drily.

A faraway look came across the other man's face as his gaze moved around the grove. "Everything here, it's so full of life; every tree, every leaf, every insect, it's as if the world is … vibrating, as if everything is much more than itself."

The blond king stared at his friend, thinking about all the ridiculous things the idiot had ever said, how he had known the things he had known, every funny feeling he had had. "You feel all that?"

Merlin's eyes came back to the king's face, surprised. "Don't you?"

Arthur slowly shook his head, his gaze locked on his friend, sure he would say something now. There had never been a better opportunity.

Merlin dropped his eyes as though afraid he might have given something away. "What will you do?"

"I don't know," Arthur said, staring at Merlin. "I've seen what misery unfettered sorcery brings."

A slight flush tinged Merlin's cheeks but he did not raise his eyes.

"Before my father outlawed magic, Camelot was almost destroyed by sorcery. In my time I have seen many use their power for vengeance and Morgana has used it for nothing but evil." Arthur watched closely for any reaction to that statement. "What would you do in my place?" he questioned softly.

Merlin's eyes jumped to meet his gaze. "Me?"

It was almost a squeak and Arthur would have laughed if he were not so angry. It was becoming more and more clear that Merlin had no intention of revealing his secret.

"I'm just a lackey, maker of beds," Merlin said.

"Lackeys can be wise." Arthur's tone hinted at his barely-contained anger. His servant could prattle on about almost anything and yet when it counted, when he had something to say that he should have admitted long ago, he chose to be evasive. "It's not like you to be silent."

"The kingdom's future is at stake. You must protect Camelot, must protect the world you spent your life building, a just and fair kingdom for all."

"For all, Merlin? Even sorcerers?"

Merlin blanched.

"Who is Emrys?" Arthur leaned closer to continue his relentless questioning.

"What? Who? How would I know?"

"I thought Gaius may have told you," Arthur said with forced casualness.

Merlin shook his head silently, his face pale. Arthur could see the inner struggle reflected there.

"Morgana mentioned the name when we faced her in Camelot's throne room, before she inexplicably lost her powers, and Mordred said it was Emrys who saved me in Ismere." More of those lucky coincidences that always happened when his servant was near. "I thought you might have asked Gaius about it."

Arthur waited for several heartbeats, eyes fixed on Merlin's ashen face. When his mouth opened and closed without any words coming out Arthur leaned back against the tree in defeat.

"When were you going to tell me?" he ground out. "On my deathbed?"

"No!" Merlin protested. "I would have told you, I was going to tell you." He let out the breath he must have been holding. "What gave it away, was it what I said about this place? Or what the Disir said?"

"Tree branches fall, trained warriors miss their target in the heat of battle, sometimes luck is with you and things happen, but an earthquake hits as Odin is about to chop my head off and suddenly there you are? Like every other time good fortune comes my way?" Arthur had believed Merlin never really meant all those jokes about his lack of intelligence but maybe he was wrong, maybe his friend really did think he was stupid.

"You've known that long?" Merlin whispered.

"Long?" Arthur snapped. "A few weeks is long? It's been years, Merlin. It's been almost four years since my father died and you could have told me any time if you had trusted me enough."

"It wasn't a matter of trust!"

"It was entirely a matter of trust. What did you think I was going to do? Chop your head off?" He paused to get his temper under control.

Merlin looked down at his hands which were twisting the edge of his tunic. "I thought you would send me away."

"Just say it already," Arthur demanded. "Say the words."

Merlin met his eyes. "I'm a sorcerer. I have magic."

Arthur was surprised the admission gave him a jolt even though he had known. "There, you see? You confessed and you're still alive. Nothing has changed."

"No, nothing has changed," Merlin repeated softly, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.

Exasperated, Arthur threw up his hands. "What do you want from me? You were right beside me in that village when I forced them to cut that old woman down instead of burning her at the stake."

"But the village elder was only enforcing your laws."

Arthur looked sharply at Merlin's downcast expression.

"And you were pleased at Osgar's death."

"He was a criminal who murdered one of my knights," Arthur said. "You cannot defend his actions simply because he was a sorcerer."

Without looking up Merlin continued. "Gwaine said Osgar was willing to be brought to you; he only struck out when they pointed their blades at his throat and even then he only disarmed them. It was after Gwaine ran him through that he attacked in self defense. What if it was the same with Ranulf?"

Arthur stared at him. Was Ranulf's death – and Osgar's – merely a matter of prejudice provoking suspicion and unnecessary violence?

"The place where we buried Osgar, I went back and built a marker." Merlin said it defiantly, eyes downcast.

Arthur considered his servant breaking the law simply by marking the grave of a sorcerer because it had been important to him to do so. In fact the king himself was breaking his own laws by not having arrested Merlin. If he only applied the law to those he did not know, making exceptions where he was personally involved, was that justice? He felt his anger drain away and his confusion return. "I am expected to overturn what my father spent the last two decades of his life enforcing? Isn't that what Morgana has been attempting for years now? Why not join forces with her?"

Merlin gave an exasperated sigh. "Morgana has done as much to convince people of the evils of magic as Uther ever did."

The king was struck by the truth of that statement, as well as by the earnestness in Merlin's voice as he continued.

"But there is no evil in magic, only in the hearts of people who use their power to force others to bow to their will."

Arthur realized that statement applied to Uther's power as king as well as Morgana's sorcery. "So I am supposed to change the laws, change attitudes that have been entrenched for a generation, and if I bring magic back to Camelot then the Disir will rescind their judgement?"

"Not just Camelot. You are destined to unite all of Albion."

Merlin said it like it was a simple task but the king stared in disbelief. It seemed impossible and Arthur wondered how he could achieve all of that when he was the youngest and least experienced ruler in the five kingdoms and beyond. "You expect me to accomplish this?"

Merlin looked him in the eye. "I would have you become the king you are destined to be."

Arthur had heard his servant's prattle about destiny before. On the other hand, maybe this was his out. "If it is fated it doesn't matter what I do, does it? It will still happen."

"There's a difference between fate and destiny. You have been given the gifts but it's up to you to use them, to fulfill your destiny."

Merlin said it matter-of-factly, certain of Arthur's ability to accomplish such a difficult goal.

"What is your part in this? You're the one with all the talk of destiny – it should be your job to fulfill prophecies."

"I can't do it without you, you're the Once and Future King."

Arthur gave up trying to make sense of the gibberish about prophecies and strange titles and destiny. "What do you want from me, Merlin?"

"I want you to know who I really am."

"I know who you really are," Arthur said softly.

Merlin gave him a puzzled look.

"You are brave, and loyal, and occasionally – very occasionally – wise.""

"I meant what makes all that possible. Without magic I'm nothing."

"I don't think that's true." At Arthur's words Merlin's startled gaze jumped to meet his. Arthur remembered saying, 'I'm good with a sword, that's all,' when Merlin tried to convince him that he deserved to be king, that he was special. "You're still the same person I knew before I realized you had magic. A good friend. Even a moderately skilled physician."

"I never thought you would say that, that you would ever accept magic or me." Merlin's eyes were brimming and Arthur realized with a pang how long his friend had waited to have this conversation. "I gave up when your father died and you said magic was evil and dangerous."

"I was grieving. Odin was the one responsible for my father's death; he may not have wielded the blade but he hired the assassin. Whether or not that old sorcerer could have saved my father's life and chose not to or deliberately hastened his end or was just powerless to change the inevitable I don't know. Dragoon can answer to that if I ever have the opportunity to speak with him."

"I'll answer to that now."

Arthur's gaze snapped to Merlin's face. To his eyes. The same eyes as the old sorcerer. His breath backed up in his lungs.

"I tried to save Uther, I swear. But Morgana had planted an enchantment that reversed my spell."

The king tried to sort through his emotions about sorcery and his father's death and how Merlin could have been involved, then gave up trying to make sense of it all. Gaius had told him he would understand in time. It was clear now that the old physician had spoken about Merlin, that one day Arthur would understand everything Merlin had done for him. He ran his hands through his hair. "What is supposed to happen now?"

"You change the world. You allow sorcery to be practiced again, let us live freely, and we show people magic can be a force for good. And you unite the kingdoms so we can all live in peace together."

Arthur started to shake his head before he took note of the simple faith shining in Merlin's eyes. Faith in him. "How do I do that?"

"With my help."

"Your help? What will you do?" Despite his friend having hitherto unknown powers it was hard to imagine how his good-natured, bumbling servant could assist in uniting kingdoms.

"Background stuff, like I always do."

In spite of the nonchalant tone Arthur suspected there was more, much more, he had yet to find out about his servant. He had known there was something about Merlin, something that made the dark-haired young man fearless. No, not fearless, he was too smart for that – brave.

Arthur thought about an earthquake conjured in a blink and what had followed. "You're the reason Morgana never joined Odin in pursuing us from that tomb, aren't you? Did you do the same thing you did in Ismere? What would you have done when Odin had us trapped if he had not chosen to face me alone in single combat?"

Merlin shrugged. "I would have had to stop him and his soldiers."

"There were a dozen of them against the two of us."

"I would have given them fair warning."

Arthur stared disbelievingly. He realized his mouth was open and shut it. "I trusted you. Why did you not trust me enough to tell me about your … talent?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I was wrong not to tell you, one of my many mistakes," he said. "Did you really figure it out for yourself?"

Arthur was fairly certain he should be insulted by that.

"You never noticed before," Merlin continued curiously.

"All the inexplicable good fortune that happened right when I needed it had to be magic, I just never knew who was involved. And I didn't want to know. At the same time I couldn't understand how you did that trick with the sword in the stone to go along with your ridiculous story and there is nothing believable about you being able to juggle when you can't catch anything. Then the look in your eyes when my father's spirit tried to tell me – it was finally too much. I just didn't want to admit it to myself until it was staring me in the face. That quake wasn't an accident and you were right there, like you always are." He tried to recall in detail every other strange event of the past seven years. "What else did I not notice?"

A familiar grin spread across Merlin's face. "How long do you want to be here?"

"I've got all day," Arthur said levelly.

"One day!" Merlin's pained expression appeared to be genuine.

Arthur's brow furrowed, wondering how much he had missed taking note of. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation in Guinevere's presence. She'll need to know anyway."

"How are you going to tell her?"

A smile touched Arthur's face at the nervous tremor in his friend's voice. "I am not telling her that her closest friend has been lying to her for years, you are."

Merlin looked at him wide-eyed. "She might get mad."

"I was mad, that didn't bother you."

"You getting mad at me is a daily occurrence, but I care what Gwen thinks of me."

Arthur smiled. "Better she's mad at you than at me."

"Better for who?"

"Me."

A somber look came over Merlin's face. "Gwen needs to know the truth, but I'm not sure it should become common knowledge yet that I'm a sorcerer."

"Why?"

"If you're going to change the laws, it would be better if no one can claim you are acting under an enchantment." It was said slowly as though Merlin were choosing his words carefully.

"That's ridiculous! You couldn't use a spell to control me." The guilty look was telling. "Merlin?"

"It was to save your life, I promise. We needed to get you out of Camelot; the city had fallen and Morgana's troops were coming for you but you would never have left without some persuasion."

The king thought back to his forced flight. "Are you the reason I was dressed like a village idiot and behaving like a simpleton?"

"You were a nice simpleton, kind and thoughtful." Merlin wore a dreamy expression as though recalling a particularly fond memory.

Arthur recalled his intense embarrassment at being seen in such ridiculous clothes and being forced to pretend he was completely witless. "What was the reason for me to overturn the laws banning magic instead of chopping your head off?"

"Destiny. I would hate to think I saved your life all those times for nothing."

"I thought maybe you saved my life because we were friends and you didn't want to lose me."

Merlin grinned. "That, too. It'll be much easier now that I don't have to wait for you to be knocked unconscious before I use magic to save us."

"That never happens!"

"Yes it does. Surprisingly regularly."

The king stared at his servant for a long moment. "You know if any of this is going to work you have to start being honest with me."

"Fair enough."

Arthur worried at the mischievous glint in Merlin's eyes.

"It wasn't an accident," Merlin said.

Arthur was puzzled.

"When you tripped on the chamber pot last week, that wasn't an accident."

Arthur's surprise at the admission was quickly replaced by his rising temper.

"And that rash, the painful, red, itchy one …"

"I get the idea." Had he really thought that there was no trace of evil in his friend? "What happened to magic as a force for good?"

"That wasn't evil, it was just horseplay."

"Horseplay?" At the innocent nod he received Arthur's anger abruptly dissipated in an urge to laugh at having his own words thrown back at him. "Fine. I stop hitting you and no more … horseplay."

"Agreed."

"And you have to tell me what's really going on."

"Then you have to listen to me."

"And you are never using that mind control spell on me again."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

They grinned at each other. Arthur got to his feet. "You can start explaining things on the journey home."

Merlin followed suit and they began to make their way back through the dense thicket.

"Well, on the first day we met …"

Thanks to DaleJ for beta. I appreciate every fav and follow and thanks to those who take time to review, no matter how old a story is.