Hidden Motives

A/N: So glad you liked the last chapter, and the reviews were lovely, thank you very much. So, a bit more angst to go yet, but I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 26

Merlin could hear the familiar sounds of Gaius bustling around their quarters, but he struggled to open his eyes. He felt heavy, as if he was sinking, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. Through his mind, however, flecks of memory were beginning to settle. They were confusing at first, with no order to them.

Finding Arthur huddled in his underground prison; being led to his own execution; waking up in the woods with not a clue as to how he had got there; being stuck in the cellar of The Midnight Moon. But soon the memories seemed to organise themselves into a path that he could follow. He remembered finding Lancelot after escaping from Sythe's enchantment and climbing out of Veneficus. And then quickly, he saw the pieces of his final game plan coming together.

He remembered waiting in the training grounds, hiding himself away to try and gain the strength he would need for the final part of his attack on Sythe. Meanwhile, Lancelot had set off in search of the other knights to give them their separate assignments.

Leon had been tasked with going into Arthur's quarters and finding the chest of spells and potions that Merlin had found a week ago; the chest that had revealed to him Sythe's impersonation. Merlin had given Lancelot as full a description as he could to help Leon to locate it, but there had been no guarantee that Sythe had kept it in the Prince's quarters. Their plan would have failed on that point alone if the chest had not been retrieved, but Leon had brought it to Merlin only an hour later.

The knight had been under the impression –one given to him by Lancelot- that Merlin had found a way of using the ingredients to hinder Sythe's ability to co-ordinate in his disguised body, which would then allow for an attack. Neither Merlin nor Lancelot had been convinced that Leon would believe that story, but they wanted to try it first in order to keep Merlin's magic a secret if possible. Arthur's discovery had been bad enough; Merlin hadn't wanted it extended to the knights as well. For whatever reason, Leon had bought the story with no questions. Whether it was due to the fact that Gaius and Merlin had frequently come up with similar solutions in years gone by, or because he put the same trust in Merlin that Arthur did –had done-, Merlin wasn't sure, but he was grateful.

With Sythe's ingredients in hand, Merlin had set to recreating the potion for his own use, while Leon delayed Sythe's visit to the dungeons by telling him there were rumours among the knights that he was the imposter - rumours that he had to deal with. Merlin didn't know whether Leon had followed through on that plan, but whatever he had done, it had worked. Meanwhile, Percival and Elyan were charged with the slightly more difficult task of ensuring that Uther was out of the way. Again, they were fed a story about the importance of the King not being in the dungeons when Sythe's deception was revealed in case he believed it to be more sorcery and turned on Arthur. Uther was unpredictable enough that the two knights –according to Lancelot- had barely blinked when they were given the explanation.

What had followed was a stressful half an hour where Merlin struggled, in his exhausted state, to reproduce Sythe's potion, and waited anxiously for news of Uther. Eventually, Lancelot had raced into Merlin's hiding place, clutching a vile of blood. He had briefly informed Merlin of what had happened, of how Elyan had managed to slip a sleeping potion from Gaius' stores into the King's drink as the servant was carrying it to him; of how Percival had then called him away to deal with a witness who claimed she had seen both Arthur and Merlin. The King had left the council rooms, followed by two guards who, as soon as the King showed signs of collapsing, Elyan and Percival had dealt with before carrying the King into an abandoned room. Lancelot had met them there and subtly drawn some blood while the two men kept guard at the door. They had been left with strict instructions to keep the King where he was in the event that he woke up too early.

By the time Lancelot finished his explanation, Merlin had already added a few drops of Uther's blood to the potion and had uttered the spell that was needed to activate it.

The transformation had been quick and almost unnoticeable, save for the slight disorientation when Merlin tried to manoeuvre in his new body. It had taken several minutes to get used to it, but soon he had been ready to go. He had quickly changed the appearance of his clothes, copying the spell that he had heard Sythe using earlier, and then Lancelot had handed him the knife. They had walked to the dungeons together and hidden, waiting for Sythe to enter, knowing that he would appear soon; he had told Merlin as much in Veneficus, but, according to Leon, had yet to go and see Arthur.

Once he was there, the two of them had given him a few minutes to ensure that the King's swift arrival would not seem suspicious. When Merlin had finally followed him in, Lancelot had stood guard outside to prevent anyone else from entering.

Going into the dungeons had been hard in several ways for Merlin. He remembered that vividly as he lay on his bed of recovery; the memory of it managed to break through the relative comfort he currently found himself in. The first difficulty had been overcoming his physical exhaustion; the pain from his injuries had bled through the magical disguise, making smooth movement very difficult. Every step he took had sent pain twisting through him; he could sense the tension in his expression, but Sythe had not noticed. The second difficulty had been imitating Uther. Merlin was not, by nature, authoritative; he spent most of his time in Arthur's shadow and spent the rest of the time hiding his true nature. Being in charge, dishing out orders and watching situations with a detached coldness went against everything that Merlin was. His act had taken all his concentration.

But by far, the two hardest things had been seeing Arthur and dealing the final blow to Sythe. The defeat on Arthur's face; the desolation in the way he held himself had been evident to Merlin instantly. He had known Arthur for too long to not know when the Prince was reaching the end of his hope. Merlin knew that the whole situation had taken its toll on the man, but he also knew that his lies and deceptions had only added to that burden. Facing Arthur –talking to him- had almost thrown Merlin completely. He had fixed the Prince with a cold and unrelenting stare when all he had really wanted to do was try and explain. He had wanted to stop and ask what this meant; wanted to know if Arthur would ever look at him as a friend again. But he had kept his expression firm, had treated Arthur with the contempt that he knew Uther would have done and then he had carried out the final part of his plan.

He felt a shudder pass through him as he remembered the moment, remembered the feel of the knife as it entered into Sythe's back; how there was so little resistance as it passed through the prone flesh. There was no sensation of victory as he felt it sink fully into Sythe's back and through his heart. Even as Sythe attacked again and Merlin held him back with very little effort, he felt no satisfaction. He did what he had to do to protect Arthur and to defeat Sythe, but all he felt in himself was a revulsion at his actions that he could not ignore.

He didn't fight like that. Yes, he had killed people before -his magic was powerful and generally unstoppable-, and he had always felt a regret that it had been necessary, a coldness that he had the ability to end someone's life like that. He hated himself in those moments, but he had always been able to remind himself that he was in a battle and, had he not killed, he would have been killed himself. This was different. Yes, there was no doubt that Sythe would have killed him had he had the chance –Merlin knew that the only reason he had been left alive in Veneficus was because Sythe had assumed he couldn't escape-, but Merlin had stabbed him when he was unaware and undefended. And he hadn't used magic; hadn't delivered a quick and painless death that would have shown some humanity, even if the sorcerer didn't deserve it.

No, he hadn't done that. He had pushed the blade through Sythe's heart under his own physical strength and then watched the man die in pain and agony. Merlin had taken his emotions out of the event and simply done what he needed to, no matter how cold and inhumane it had been.

His eyes shot open and he gasped as he took in his surroundings, shocked by the sudden sensation of awareness that wasn't rooted in dark memories.

'Merlin?' The voice was gentle and familiar. He looked across to see Gaius working at his table, mixing together herbs that Merlin knew were used in pain relief. Merlin pushed himself up, feeling the tenderness of his injuries once more. He shut his eyes and waited for the wave of pain to subside. When he opened them, it was to see that Gaius had occupied the chair beside the bed.

'What…?' he asked, looking around. Gauis seemed calm, at ease. 'It's over?'

'Yes, Merlin,' Gaius smiled. 'You did well, my boy.' Merlin shook his head, feeling the knife in his hand, seeing the blood. He opened his mouth to say something, to turn down the praise, but his throat closed up and his vision went blurry. 'Merlin,' Gaius told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'You carry enough burdens as it is; do not add more guilt where you should feel none.'

Merlin nodded, but he said nothing. It would take more than a few words from Gaius to help him get past the brutality of what he had done.

'How long?' he asked instead after a few moments, looking round the room for some sign of the passage of time, but aside from it being bright outside, he couldn't find any clues.

'You've been recovering for two days,' Gaius told him. Merlin felt shock at the news. Two whole days?

'Don't look so surprised,' Gaius chided gently. 'You're not indestructible, Merlin, though sometimes I'm not sure you realise it. Your body has endured a lot over the past week. You needed rest.'

'Two days?' he repeated. 'So everything is sorted, then?' he asked, allowing Gaius to ease him back into a lying position while the physician checked his injuries and tightened the bandages that Merlin had dislodged with his sudden movement.

'Yes,' the man nodded. 'Lancelot took responsibility for the attack on Sythe and the knights believe all that you told them about the plan.'

'So Uther understands the truth about Sythe?'

'Yes,' Gaius said heavily, but he looked a Merlin sadly. 'Everything was explained to him, but he did not take the news well. I believe he struggled to accept that he had turned on his own son.'

'He doesn't believe Arthur?'

'Oh, he believes him,' Gaius nodded, 'but he has taken the deception hard. His pride has been shaken; he is questioning himself again.'

'Again? Like after Morgana?' Merlin asked. At Gaius's nod, Merlin felt his thoughts go out to Arthur. How would he cope if his father had sunk back into the withdrawn and unresponsive state that he had been in only a few days ago? He had struggled enough with it before, but now, after everything that had happened…

Merlin sighed and met Gaius gaze again.

'How is Arthur?' he asked hesitantly, unsure of what answer he wanted. The fact that he was still alive and not burning at a stake suggested that somewhere along the way Arthur had decided that he wasn't an evil sorcerer bent on power and destruction, but Merlin hadn't really expected that anyway. He looked to Gaius hopefully, but the man's face was filled with consolation.

'I don't know,' he said gently. 'He hasn't been here.'

Merlin,

Gratitude is to be extended to you for your contributions to the royal household and your part in bringing the sorcerer, Sythe, to justice after his recent attack.

Taking into account current events, however, it has been necessary to reassess certain positions within the royal household. In light of this, I wish to inform you that your service as manservant to the Crown Prince, Arthur Pendragon, is henceforth terminated.

Due to your significant assistance to Camelot's Court Physician as an apprentice, it is acceptable for you to remain in that position for as long as you deem necessary. However, unless you are under the directive of Gaius, Court Physician, you will not be permitted to enter the castle, and your presence at Court sessions is not required.

Sincerely,

Arthur Pendragon

Arthur re-read the letter for the third time and then rested his head on his hands, his elbows propped up on his desk. He hated it; hated the way it sounded. The arrogance in it, the detachment, the coldness; he hated all of it, and yet he could not bring himself to screw it up and throw it in the fire.

He had made his decision: he would not reveal Merlin's magic to his father, or to anyone else for that matter, he would not see him executed. It had taken him only a mater of hours to come to that conclusion. After Sythe had been killed, Lancelot had burst into the dungeons and explained everything about Merlin's plan. He had then taken control of the situation, carried Merlin to Gaius' quarters, where the physician, having been brought back from The Midnight Moon, had treated him. Lancelot had then rallied the knights to try and explain the situation to Uther. Uther had come down to the dungeons and seen the evidence of Sythe's betrayal. Arthur's explanation, coupled with Lancelot and Gwaine's comments had assured the monarch that he had indeed been deceived and he had quickly retired to his chambers.

Arthur had been left alone while his knights took care of the situation and reorganised the soldiers. In that time, he had stumbled to his quarters and sat on his bed. He had stared unseeingly at the wall, trying to come up with his next steps, trying to find an explanation for what he had seen. It had come down to two things in the end: two ideas, of which he had to pick one to be his truth.

Either Merlin was evil or magic was sometimes good. The simple ideas had cleared his mind in an instant, had given him a way forward because, no matter how much he looked at it, he knew that Merlin was not evil, which meant that his second point was the only possible truth. Magic could be used for good, a thought that he had entertained on a few occasions in the past. Magic could be used for good because Merlin used it. And Arthur had no doubt about the goodness of his manservant...former manservant. This had quickly helped him to make some important decisions. By the time Gwen came to find him, he had decided not to reveal Merlin's secret, and definitely not to execute him for his use of magic. In fact, as the hours went on, Arthur became more and more aware that Merlin using magic didn't cause him too much trouble; not when he considered how Merlin had used it during his exchanges with Sythe.

With that key issue resolved, Arthur found his mind more settled and calm, to a point where he could aid the knights in re-establishing Camelot's proper order.

What had been infinitely more difficult had been deciding how he should now treat Merlin on a personal level. They could not carry on as things had been before, that much was certain. He couldn't have Merlin wondering back and forth into his chambers, exchanging feigned insults and laughing and joking as if nothing had changed.

He couldn't go back to that relationship, that…friendship; he couldn't bear to try and replicate it again when it had been based on such dishonesty. And it wasn't that Arthur didn't understand the deception; it wasn't that at all. If that was the case, he knew he would be angry, very angry, at the whole situation; the only emotion akin to anger he had been able to dredge up was mild irritation and even that had passed quickly.

Yes, he understood why Merlin had not told him the truth, but that didn't make any difference when it came to making decisions about who a Prince should have by his side. Merlin had been at his side in every situation, through every difficulty and success because Arthur had trusted him above everybody else in the Kingdom.

But that trust was gone now, obliterated, gone beyond all recall. If Arthur was honest with himself, it had never really been there in the first place; he had just thought it was there; only Merlin had known that the notion of trust was a far cry from their situation.

And so even if Merlin was good, even if Merlin had always acted in Arthur's best interests, even if Arthur already felt lonely at the thought of Merlin's absence in his life from this point forward, he could not bring himself to re-establish a relationship that had perished as surely as Sythe had.

He hadn't even been able to draw up the courage to visit Merlin. Lancelot had kept him informed of the situation, of course, and confessed, when Arthur posed the question, that yes, both he and Gaius had always known of Merlin's magic. Arthur had been surprised, again, to feel no anger at either man for keeping Merlin's secret. How could he when he was planning to do exactly the same now that he knew? Lancelot had also shed some light on how Merlin had used his magic over the past few years. In a truly breath-taking account, the knight had explained the selfless actions that Merlin had carried out in order to protect Camelot, but mostly to protect Arthur.

The humility that Arthur had felt as he listened to the stories had brought him to a point of deep regret that he hadn't known about Merlin all along; that the trust, which Arthur now longed for, hadn't been there from the very start, so that everything could just carry on as normal now. Merlin had done all these things alone and with no thought of praise or credit. Arthur had spent several sleepless nights wrestling with his feelings, trying to convince himself that, in light of all that his manservant -former manservant- had done, he could accept Merlin back, that he could allow their relationship to be established again. But deep within himself he could not recreate the trust that he had so effortlessly given to Merlin before. And if he couldn't trust him, then he couldn't have him at his side. It was as simple and as difficult as that.

Arthur re-read the letter once more, folded it and finally dripped some wax on it to seal it. With a sigh he looked towards his door, considering calling a servant to deliver it for him, but he decided against it. He had already been enough of a coward over the past few days. After everything Merlin had done, he deserved to have the letter delivered to him in person, even if the letter was likely to crush him. Arthur knew it would, it was one of the reasons he wanted to pass the job to someone else; he couldn't bear to inflict such hurt on Merlin, but he knew that if he was severing these ties then he had to force himself to see the fallout, he had to force himself to see what the consequences of his actions were.

And, if Merlin wanted him to, Arthur had to try and explain why their journey together had to come to an end.

He put on his robe, picked up the letter and headed to Gaius' chambers.

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