The Secret Keeper

Merlin got back to the main part of the palace with Gaius' words still ringing in his ears "For someone with such a big secret, you are a terrible liar" – soon the physician would find out that he had helped the druid boy escape, and it seemed that he was already preparing himself for it. He had lied often and a lot, but he had always been able to tell Gaius everything – and now even that was no longer true. He knew, deep inside his heart, that he'd never just accept his advice again to stay in the side of caution; he would not turn against what he believed to be right, and had Merlin allowed the boy to be executed, he'd never be able to live with himself.

The guards were still searching the town – not only houses, but carts, bags and anything that might give them inkling to the boy's whereabouts. He didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was walking faster around them (then again, he was so often late and had been in the stocks so many times that they probably wouldn't think that him running around was anything unusual).

Merlin went straight to Morgana's chambers, ignoring his chores. Arthur had been out of them most of the time since the search begun, and surely they could wait for long enough. He knocked for only a moment, announcing his name before walking inside. He could see the boy's wound had a new dressing (probably Gwen's work, although she wasn't around), and Morgana looked worried, close to his side.

"How is he?" he asked, seeing her expression.

"He's sleeping" she stated, and then added "He's very pale. I fear he has lost a lot of blood."

Merlin nodded at her, kneeling beside the sleeping boy for a while and checking on his general state as he had often seen Gaius do.

"Has he said anything at all?" he wondered, looking at her.

"Nothing. He won't even tell me his name."

There was something in her voice – a longing or a gentleness that made him look at her instead of looking to the boy. He had always thought she was incredibly beautiful, her dark hair falling in waves against her pale skin. Every trace of her face seemed to have been thought as to make a perfect harmonic look. Normally, it was marked by her almost cruel smile and her confidence, but as she watched the sleeping boy, there was a deep vulnerability to her features that made her even prettier – more human.

He had dealt with her before and could safely say he knew her better than most people in Camelot, but never he had thought of her the way he did now: as a whole person, with soft spots and dark thoughts. Someone as real as he was, or Gwen, or Gaius, or Arthur.

"You know – er, for a moment there, earlier, I thought you were going to hand us over to the guards" he confessed, embarrassedly. He could tell her that now – he could admit how silly his moment of fear had been.

"I'm glad you have so much faith in me, Merlin" she replied, all the softness gone. Her voice was sharp and exasperated enough to say his name almost the same way Arthur did when he was annoyed. He had never noticed how much alike they could be, and yet, they were completely different.

"No, no, sorry" he added, nervously. I meant, you're the King's Ward" still, Morgana was looking at him as if he had grown a second head. "You're taking a huge risk helping the boy."

He knew he was making very little sense – anyone would be taking a huge risk, and probably she was safer than most. She had never restrained herself from confronting Uther, but words were one thing, and actions were another. He had not truly known if she'd be willing to make a move against the king's orders, and only some almost faded memories from his meeting with the druid seer that had led him there. The truth was that something inside him hoped that she would be more tolerant of magic, unlike Arthur.

"I wouldn't see an innocent child executed" she announced, as if it was a rule he'd do well to remember, and then her eyes moved back to the boy. "What harm has he ever done anyone?"

"Uther believes he has magic, and that makes him guilty" he said, slowly, trying to hide the size of his critique through his soft tone, hoping that Morgana would raise to the bait.

"Uther's wrong" she said, firmly. There was no doubt in her voice, nor in her eyes, and yet – yet—he had to be sure.

"You believe that?"

It felt impossible to him that she wasn't hearing his heart beating in his chest. No one, not even Gaius had gone as far as to say such thing. And then, as she looked vulnerable and uncertain once again, he knew his heart was about to either break viciously or swell more than he could handle. She avoided his eyes, looking elsewhere as she begun to speak.

"What if magic isn't something you choose? … What if it chooses you?"

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, seeking reassurance, and he couldn't speak. His emotions were locking his throat, and she tensed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I am not sure what you mean" he said, needing confirmation. "How can it choose you?"

She shrugged, impatiently.

"Why would anyone choose to have magic when it is punished with death? Why would one seek to live a life in which you are never safe? It makes no sense."

"So they can be more powerful than others?" he asked, frowning. "So they can turn things into their favor?"

Morgana shook her head, disagreeing.

"Some of them, maybe – yes; but not all of them. Do you think he wanted to have magic?" Her head pointed towards the child. "I have been here for longer than you, Merlin, and I have seen far more people being executed for healing, caring for animals and fertilizing fields than for using magic against other people. I don't think magic is evil – I think magic is what people make of it."

For a few seconds, he could only stare at her, almost unable to believe in his own ears. Not even in his wildest dreams he expected such an answer; it was clear not only that she had spent a long time thinking about it but also that it was no simple rebellion that led her to act as she did, but a fundamental belief that what Uther did was wrong – that everything the King stood for was wrong.

"Say something!" she ordered, clearly fidgeting and maybe even regretting how much she had exposed herself, but he couldn't allow that, not when she had said nothing wrong but exactly what he had always needed to hear; not when she had opened her heart to him and not when she was ready to accept him for who he is rather than the fiction he had to play every day.

"I have magic" he blurted out, unable to control himself. Her eyes got incredibly wide, and he went on. "I was born with it."

For a moment, Morgana seemed on the verge of screaming out. Merlin didn't even know what he'd do if she called for the guards – he should have thought about that before – but it wasn't just him, there was the boy as well. Her lips parted, but she didn't yell for help, merely stopped, analyzing him for eternal seconds before she got closer to him and spoke.

"Does anyone know?"

"Gaius" he confessed, and she nodded as if she had figured that much out. "I haven't… I can't… I shouldn't…"

"Thank you" she said, finally, squeezing his hand.

Morgana looked right into his eyes, as if trying to reassure him by the intensity of the stare alone. Her fingers crushed his as if he, too, was a child in her care, who needed to be protected. It made Merlin feel uneasy and he dropped his eyes for a while, only to find her smiling at him warmly when he looked back at her.

"Is that why you decided to help him?"

Merlin just nodded, and Morgana's hold became softer, her fingers intertwining with his in a gesture that was at the same time intimate and comforting. For a moment they stood where they were, both looking at the druid, their hands clasped.

"What do you think we should do with him? He can't stay here."

"We have to find a way to get him back to his people."