A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this out. Caught up to where I'd finalised chapters and wanted to get a fair bit more written before I started posting again. I'd also appreciate a Brit pick for a line in a later chapter – any volunteers? I really appreciate the reviews and alerts for this fic, thanks.

Merlin was a dragonlord.

And time had no meaning.

Arthur stared silently out the window. He wanted to rage. He wanted to shout and scream, and tear apart his castle brick by brick with his bare hands. He definitely didn't want to howl in anguish, he was the king.

He hardly heard the uproar behind him in Gwen, Leon and Gwaine's voices. He didn't care that Tristan leant against the wall silently watching the fallout with the mild interest of a spectator at a mediocre play. There was no room in him for their reactions, not when he felt like this.

Hob and Rolf had been ushered away. Now Arthur was alone with the people he could trust, or thought he could trust, because nothing in his life was certain any more, not after this. He'd been so sure of Morgana, of Agravaine. So sure of their loyalty, yet so stupidly blind. He'd been wrong about Gaius, he'd forsaken Gwen then later banished her, he'd killed Caerleon and started a war. His judgement had proven to be flawed time and time again ... and now ... would it ever end?

On the surface, Arthur was calm, very calm. Yet inside he felt like he could burst out of his skin.

He turned back to them.

"What are you going to do, Arthur?" It wasn't the first time Gwaine had asked, but now the knight's voice had lost its raw anger and was edged in despair. Leon hovered between them, his agitation evident, eyes shifting from Arthur to Gwaine and back again.

Arthur's instructions to his knights disclosed nothing. "Go. Bring Merlin to me as soon as he returns."

Gwaine argued, or tried to; he yelled, he demanded, he pleaded and he begged, but he could not argue with a king who stared silently through him in return.

Gwaine and Leon left, and Tristan drifted away with them.

Arthur was alone with Gwen.

He took her hand and moved to the far end of the room. There was nothing in his voice to hint at his inner turmoil. "Did you know?"

"Arthur." She shook her head. "No. I didn't. But ..."

Bitterly, he filled in the blanks. "But you wouldn't have told me, if you had known. Because it would have been Merlin's secret to tell. Is that right?"

She cradled his face between her hands, her eyes on his. "I don't know, Arthur. I just don't know."

Loyalty could not be commanded, only earnt. He wouldn't go over that ground with her again, wouldn't pile more hurt on top of the scar that was still healing between them. But still, he asked, "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Arthur, I'm not going to guess for you. I trust you to do what's right."

"You don't have an opinion? Will you be my queen in name only?" It wasn't what he wanted, and he knew she'd be more than that. But he didn't want to be alone with this, he needed her counsel too, their first test together.

She stroked his cheek. "Arthur, I know you, and I know Merlin. I love you, and Merlin is my best friend. And …" Gwen paused and said carefully, "I thought he was your best friend too."

He trembled before he could stop himself, his weakness stirred his anger again, he tensed. She slipped a hand around his shoulders and stroked the back of his neck, brushing her fingers through the hair that curled over his collar. "Arthur, if you truly want me to say something, then … I'll caution you, don't act rashly. Don't let anger lead you into doing something you'll regret. I know you're upset, I know you're angry. But listen to your heart, what does it tell you?"

"I don't know, Guinevere." He shook his head and pulled her close, giving into the comfort of her embrace, admitting to her what he'd say to no one else, something a king should never say. "I don't know anything anymore." And that was the crux of it. He didn't know where the lies ended and the truth began, he didn't know how to distinguish one from the other.

"Then what bothers you the most about this, Arthur? Is it that he's a dragonlord? Is it that you didn't know? Do you … do you think he has magic too?"

Of course he'd thought about it, the magic, the idea kept bubbling to the surface of the chaos in his mind. "I don't know, Guinevere. I don't know if all dragonlords have magic." And he couldn't ask Gaius. "But yes, it's possible that all dragonlords have magic, that Merlin does too."

"And what if he does? What if Merlin has magic too? Then what?"

He shook his head, he hadn't allowed himself to think past what if. It was too much too soon, to work through and process rationally in his mind.

"Arthur, if he has magic, if he's used it, do you think that means he's evil, like Morgana?"

"You don't, do you?"

"It's you who has to work this out, Arthur."

He remembered. "Gaius has magic."

"And you stopped your father's persecution of the druids, Arthur." She pulled back out of his embrace a little so she could look him in the eyes. "Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you end persecution of them? Was it because you believed magic could be good, and not just a source of evil? Or was it because you felt that there's no justice in the persecution of people who've done no harm? Why did you make that promise to them, Arthur?"

It hadn't been a rash decision, nor a bargain for his life. It had been the only decision he could make, because in this his father had been ... he swallowed, he'd faced the truth before, his father had been wrong.

That wound was still raw, but he wouldn't revisit it now. "For both reasons. They're my people too. What has happened to the druids for many years … I couldn't allow it to continue, Guinevere."

"Then you have part of your answer."

He did? Was she saying that if Merlin had magic too, he could let it be?

He recognised she was forcing him to think this situation through instead of letting him react blindly, and although he believed she had not already known Merlin's secret until now, he still marvelled at her calm composure after such a revelation. Was she doing this for him, hiding her own disquiet?

Or was it just so easy for her to accept? He could not do the same. "He didn't tell me. He didn't trust me. The friend I thought I had, doesn't exist." He wasn't hurt, he was matter-of-fact.

"Then you have to find out why he didn't tell you, Arthur. Just please, be careful."

"Be careful?" The idea was ludicrous. "Merlin won't harm me, Guinevere, even if he has magic and can command a dragon, he won't harm me." And that at least was one truth that he hadn't realised he'd known until he'd said it, and he felt the heavy clenching in his chest ease a little, Merlin was still there, inside this dragonlord.

"That's not what I meant. I meant … Arthur, what is the outcome you want from this … discussion, I guess, that you're going to have with Merlin?"

He thought about it. "I want honesty, Guinevere. That's what I need. I need the truth. I need to be able to trust the people around me. I can't have a friendship that's based on lies."

"Then you still want a friendship with him?"

He wanted to reassure her, but instead he settled for the truth. "I need to be able to trust him, Guinevere. I don't know if I can any more."

She nodded, very slowly.

There was a tentative knock on the door. Arthur wanted to ignore it, he'd given orders that no one could be admitted, but the knock came again, this time louder, and Leon's voice called out, "Sire, Merlin's back."

It was too quick, and Arthur wasn't ready.

But he steeled himself, and gave a curt nod to the guards who opened the door.

And there, on the threshold, stood the dragonlord.