It was a long time before Arthur felt the bitter damp of the cold ground ground leaching through pants and driving a chill into his body. He sat motionless under the dark canopy of trees. He had not been aware of the absence of the sounds of the night until they slowly returned once the dragon and Merlin had departed. He could hear them again over the sound of his own harsh breathing, small animals rustling through the undergrowth, cicadas chirping again, their lives returning to normal now the Lord of the Forest had departed.
And Arthur wondered, their lives may be normal again, but what was normal for him now?. That Merlin was a dragonlord was the obvious conclusion he reached within moments of the dragon's arrival: who but a dragonlord could could command a dragon? Who could speak with a dragon without becoming the creature's next meal? Who even knew a dragon could speak, because he had, and he had a name, Merlin had called him Kilgharrah. He'd even teased him, in the same way he bantered with Arthur.
But although he felt complete and utter astonishment at this discovery of his manservant being a dragonlord; with some wonder he realised that revelation came almost secondary to the conversation between the Merlin and the great beast. What on earth was that all about? It hinted that Merlin's involvement in ... things ... was more than Arthur had perceived. What was Merlin doing? What had he already done?
As a drizzle of rain began to work its way through the trees, Arthur realised he had been sitting there for some time, his mind spinning round in circles. Without conscious thought, he found himself walking back to Camelot, and if the guards at the entrance were surprised to find their Regent strolling unaccompanied through the gates in the middle of the night, it took only one look at his face before they remembered their training and did not offer any comment on it.
He made it to his chambers without attracting any further notice, kicking off his muddy boots and sitting down heavily into the chair by fireplace. He gazed absently into the still-smouldering flames that Merlin had lit some hours ago.
How did he feel? He was shocked, well he had been, but now as the fog in his mind was clearing he remembered Merlin's unusual grief at Balinor's death which now of course made perfect sense.
No man is worth your tears.
He'd thought his tears were for Camelot, but they weren't just that, they were also for his father, and his loss.
Oh Merlin, why didn't you tell me? But he knew why, why would've he? What would Arthur have done with the knowledge? He knew without a doubt he would not have told his own father. While being a dragonlord was not exactly illegal, Uther would have made Merlin's life difficult if he'd known, he may have even had him executed, eventually. Arthur knew he would have done what he could to protect Merlin from his father, and that would have meant keeping Merlin's secret.
Yet the events with Balinor seemed so long ago. He'd long considered Merlin to be his friend now, but was he a friend to Merlin, particularly back then?
Another idea occurred to him. Was this discovery he'd just made been the reason for that cryptic conversation they'd had earlier about truth and lies? Had Merlin been preparing to tell him? But if so, why, and why now?
He had come to the realisation long ago that Merlin was not the open book he'd once thought he'd been. There were secrets within him that Arthur wasn't privy to. But their friendship, and that was what it was, Arthur acknowledged, had not been build around deep, meaningful discussions of thoughts and feelings. He cringed slightly at that idea. Arthur was a warrior, he preferred action and movement to introspection and self-discovery. Yet the friendship he had with his manservant was the sum of a million little things, and that was what made it what it was, complete, at least he hoped it to be so.
He'd never really admitted it before, and he'd certainly never said it to Merlin, but Merlin was his friend. He only hoped that Merlin considered Arthur to be his friend too, but ... did he? Was it friendship or duty that bound Merlin to him? Arthur was surprised how much the thought troubled him.
Well if Merlin hadn't wanted to admit to being a dragonlord then that was his prerogative. But still, that didn't meant he wasn't going to not say anything about what he'd discovered to Merlin. And he was going to ask Merlin some direct questions. Somewhat grimly, he wondered if it would be a true measure of his manservant's trust in him as to what responses he received.
Merlin barged in his usual manner into the Arthur's darkened chambers, stopping on his way to the window to drop the breakfast tray on the table. After his talk yesterday with Arthur, he'd decided he needed to do a better job of being his normal self today if he wanted to escape further notice. He drew back the curtains, and turned to say cheerily, "Rise and shine lazybones, it's time to get –" He stopped, as he realised Arthur was not in bed but sitting in chair beside the dead fire.
"Arthur? You're up already?"
Arthur stood and stretched, yawning. "As you see."
Merlin eyed the breeches and shirt the Prince was dressed in. "Weren't you wearing those clothes yesterday?"
"Your powers of observation never fail to astound me, Merlin."
Merlin frowned. "Is something the matter?"
"Should there be something wrong?" Arthur wandered over to the table and picked an apple off his breakfast plate, polishing it on his shirt.
"Well, it looks like you've been up all night, and for someone who really needs their beauty sleep so they don't scare off-"
Arthur pitched the apple at his chest and Merlin caught it deftly and took a bite.
"Hey, that's meant to be my breakfast!"
Merlin flashed him a well-you-did-throw-it-at-me look, and shrugged.
"What about you, Merlin, how did you sleep?"
Merlin threw him a cautious glance. There was something odd in Arthur's tone ... He swallowed. "Fine."
Arthur sighed. "Actually, I was up all night because I was thinking, Merlin." He held up his hand. "No, I know what you're going to say, but if you do, I may develop a sudden urge for moving target practice."
Merlin groaned.
"I need a bath, so I want you to bring me some water and get me a change of clothes. Then," he paused thoughtfully. "I want to talk with you."
Merlin coughed around his mouthful of apple. "Arthur, why does that sound like a threat?"
It was Arthur's nature to act first, and consider the consequences later. It was this instinct that made him a formidable adversary in battle, the ability to react to a threat in a split second, to read an opponent in the blink of an eye and know instantly what to do.
But Arthur had other instincts too, and if his battle-honed instincts were the result of years of training and experience in war, no less developed were his instincts perfected by years of hunting: the ability to stalk his prey, to watch and wait, and to know when the timing was right to take action.
So as much as part of Arthur's innate personality wanted to confront Merlin, demand to know why the bloody hell he hadn't thought to mention he was a dragonlord, why he'd lied and told him he'd killed the dragon in the first place, and not to mention what the heck that conversation he'd overheard between them was about - he didn't.
He did nothing.
He allowed this second skill-set, the one that urged caution and patience, to over-rule the urge to yell and command, because Arthur wasn't sure if the timing was right to take action, and he was even less sure what action he should take.
Arthur knew what outcome he wanted: truth and honesty from Merlin, but he didn't know how to get it. With his authority as Prince, Arthur could demand truth and honesty from Merlin by confronting him with the knowledge of Merlin's secret. But Arthur wanted this to come from friendship and trust, not fear or force, for Merlin's friendship could be the price if force was used, and that price was one Arthur would not pay.
Merlin was his friend. And if he was keeping a secret of that magnitude from Arthur – well, maybe it was less to do with Merlin's betrayal by omission, and more to do with something in Arthur's character he found lacking, something wrong within Arthur that meant Merlin felt he could not trust Arthur with this truth.
Arthur wasn't going to be like his father, a king who garnered the obedience of his subjects through hard rule and fear. He believed a good leader must first become a good servant. And a great king should be trusted by his subjects, yet Merlin, one of the few people he thought would trust him completely and unconditionally, quite clearly, with this omission, did not trust him, not at all.
This realisation produced an odd pain in his chest that wouldn't go away.
Arthur had thought about it all night.
A short time later, Arthur had bathed and dressed in fresh clothes. He felt strange, a little disassociated from himself, like he was watching his actions from a distance. But he harnessed the years of court training and lessons learned from managing his father, and assumed his usual composure. He motioned to one of the chairs beside the fireplace and said to his manservant, "Take a seat."
Merlin stopped poking unnecessarily at the re-stoked fire, and sat down with obvious reluctance.
Arthur linked his hands across his lap and settled back in the chair. He came straight to the point. "Do you feel that I am your friend, Merlin?"
Merlin blinked. "Uh, if this is going to be about feelings Arthur, then I should tell you, you are mistaking me for Gwen." When Arthur just continued to look at him seriously, Merlin stilled. "Yes, I do," he said awkwardly.
"Merlin ..." Arthur hesitated. "You know I trust you, don't you?"
Merlin fidgeted. "Is this about yesterday? Because, if it is, then forget it. I was just in a weird mood, it didn't mean anything, don't worry -"
"Merlin. Do you trust me ... with all your secrets?"
Oh god. Merlin felt the colour draining from his face. What did Arthur know? Was it about the magic? It had to be, what else could Arthur think his secret would be? Did Arthur notice he'd only bought cold water up half an hour ago and magically heated the bath water? No, it couldn't be that, he was never that observant and anyway he was wanting to "talk" before then.
Frantically Merlin tried to think the last few times he'd performed magic, but no, it couldn't have been any of them, he'd been very careful to remain unobserved. And he'd had over three years of practice, he knew he was good at concealing what he had to. He said carefully, trying not to show his alarm, "Secrets?"
"There are things about you, things you've done, that I don't know about, aren't there?"
"Like ...?" Merlin tried to swallow down his panic at where this was leading.
"Like ... I was wondering, if you had any thoughts as to how we defeated an immortal army. For the second time, that is."
"Oh. Um ..." Thank god, it wasn't about his magic at all.
"And you and Lancelot. After it was over, you came in the opposite direction to the watch bell. Why was that?"
"It was a bit difficult to get to the watch bell, Arthur, there was an immortal army in the castle after all!"
"Is there something you're not telling me, Merlin?"
Merlin folded his arms carefully and tried to look untroubled and relaxed at this interrogation. "What is it exactly, that you want to know?"
"I want to know how we defeated an immortal army. What caused them to just vanish?"
They traded stares and Merlin looked away first. "Their power came ... from Morgause's enchantment." This was true enough in a way. Merlin thought further and volunteered in a rush, "She was injured in the fight, and I emptied the blood of Cenred's men contained within the Cup of Life and so the army just ... vanished."
Ah yes, the Cup of Life.
"That sounded fairly simple." Arthur waited and Merlin fidgeted. "So Morgause was injured ... how?"
"Oh ... blow to the head, I think."
"You think?"
"Yeah, well, she threw me up against the wall, I hit my head pretty hard so I can't remember it all."
"Who else was there when this happened? Just you?"
Merlin hesitated then shook his head.
"Lancelot?"
A nod.
"Anyone else?" Merlin looked uncomfortable. "Gaius was with you and Lancelot when we met up later. Was he there, when you were with Morgause?"
"He arrived near the end."
"Anyone else?"
"Uh, not really, not when she was thrown, uh, injured."
Arthur let that one go ... for now. "You are a veritable fount of knowledge today, Merlin. Why exactly is it that you haven't mentioned any of this before?"
"You never asked!" A long silence. "So, how about I go polish-" Arthur held up his hand and Merlin sank bank into the chair, not bothering to try and disguise his groan.
"So who injured Morgause?"
"Umm, well ..."
"Come on, was it Lancelot, you or Gaius?"
"We all had a share in it."
"So Gaius and Lancelot would tell me the same thing?"
Merlin looked a bit sulky. "Yes."
"And the Cup of Life would be ... where exactly? Safe in the vaults of Camelot?"
Merlin winced, then bit his lip, hesitating. "No." Reluctantly, he looked directly at Arthur. "It's at the Isle of the Blessed again. I took it there, last night, and that's where it is. It's perfectly safe."
"Hmm. You took it there last night. That's almost half a day's ride each way ... yet you're back here, already."
"I ... had a very fast horse!"
"I'll bet you did."
Merlin swallowed visibly and twitched, his gaze skittering around the room randomly. "Uh, now that we've got all that cleared up, then how about I go and polish –"
Arthur held up a hand. "Not yet. What exactly did you mean by again?"
A croak. "Again?"
"You said it's at the Isle of the Blessed again, Merlin."
Merlin slumped further down in his chair. "Oh, that. Um, that's where it was before, you know, before the druids gave it to, um, us."
"I could ask you how you know that ... but I won't ... yet. I'm not sure I want to hear the answer."
Merlin slid even further down his chair.
"So if you, or Lancelot, or Gaius, or all three of you, injured Morgause – and I am not even going to ask you how that was possible, since she is a very powerful witch – then how did she disappear? We searched the entire castle, she was nowhere to be found."
For a long moment there was silence between them. Then Merlin bit his lip nervously, took a deep breath, looked directly at Arthur and said simply, "I suppose you will believe me now if I tell you. Morgana took her sister, Arthur. She has magic."