Merlin, now fully sighted, bruised over a good portion of his body, and exhausted – allowed his caretaker and mentor to fuss over him. The medication that was gently massaged into his skin was supposed to help with the bruising, but it was Gaius's gentle touch that eased Merlin's pain. The warlock struggled against the involuntary sighs that over took him – as Gaius conquered his physical discomforts.
It would have been even more soothing had he not been partially undressed in front of Gwaine. Merlin would never admit it, not to Gwaine or Arthur or anyone else – well maybe his mother – but there was a certain shame he felt about not sharing the same physique as the "save the world" types. Ever since Gwen had pointed out, so long ago, that Merlin just didn't suit the role of hero – he'd been keenly aware of his less athletic frame.
Secretly, he tried a little.
When ever Arthur gave him physical labor to do, Merlin did his best to complete the work. Only when his schedule got tight or there were other pressing matters to attend to – did he cheat and use magic. However, no amount of hauling or laboring put any more muscle on his frame. No amount of sparring with Arthur or his men did any good – nor did it improve his reflexes.
Merlin was doomed to have a slighter more delicate body.
Showing his body to anyone who did have a heroic physique, just made him feel embarrassed. It was like admitting he was weak. Sure, Merlin knew he would be the most powerful man who would ever walk the earth, but he just didn't look reliable. It bothered him.
Gwaine filled Gaius in on Merlin's exploits while Merlin tried not to lean into a very pleasant shoulder rub. To the warlock's surprise there were no lectures about revealing his magic. There was no advice. There was no making of escape plans or suggestions of them. Instead Gaius's ministrations were even more gentle and delicate than before - as if he dared not to add any discomfort to Merlin's being. The damage however had already been done and there was no taking it back. Merlin had preformed magic in front of an audience and Arthur had been in that audience.
There was still so much he wanted to do with everyone.
Merlin half turned his head so that he could watch the rain from one of the windows of the make shift hospital wing that – thankfully – was not full. It was partially set up as a dining hall, as if the staff had expected a bloodless outcome. Merlin smiled, he knew that George was behind the preparations. They would have to clear out before Arthur and the men were directed here for a meal. Merlin did not feel like joining them. In fact, he was waiting to be arrested. It had been a tough decision. If he hadn't done what he had, this room would be full of people. There were so many times he could have prevented death and injury, but he had to keep his secret safe. He kept his secret safe for Arthur, for Camelot, and for himself. Now, he had sacrificed everything.
Gaius helped Merlin pull on a clean shirt after he was done. He patted Merlin on the shoulder and told him that he was so very proud. The warlock shook his head without thinking, tears building up in his eyes, and with much trembling.
"I need you to do me a favor, make sure that my mother is taken care of?" Merlin softly pleaded.
"Admit it, you're Emrys," challenged Arthur at a very stoic faced George, who was just finishing helping Arthur change into warmer dryer clothing. His armor, lay wet and waiting for servicing, was still beaded by the rain.
"Sire, I don't think I understand?" was the prompt and professional response.
"You don't make sense. You know too much about what I do, what Merlin does, and what everyone in this castle does! No one can be as accomplished and perfect as you are. You taught Merlin magic behind my back and even though you've been helpful – you've snuck around in the background doing what ever you wish for as long as you could. Admit it, you're the warlock!"
George stood still. In all of his training and preparation for the job of manservant, he did not quite know the protocol for contradicting a noble. Arthur had just commanded George to admit to something that was false. Arthur wasn't asking for the truth, he just wanted his version of the truth confirmed and that was something that servants did all the time for their masters.
"Sire..."
"You can't deny it!"
It was enough. It was a true command.
"As you wish, Sire."
Arthur accompanied by two knights stomped to the makeshift hospital to find that Merlin wasn't there. Frustrated, because he did not want to walk all the way up the flights of stairs to Gaius's chambers, he began to double back to his own chambers. However, his thoughts were heated and his head felt hot. He turned around midway and hurried himself to the physicians door.
The palace was in an uproar. The nobility were screaming for blood. They wanted Emrys reigned in. Whether he was protecting Camelot or not – magic was illegal. They were frightened as well as furious. Apparently Aggravaine had been interrogating everyone for information, even the nobility, about signs of a magic user. His actions had stirred unrest. Everyone feared the secret warlock.
Arthur had taken George into custody. George had not quite admitted to being Emrys, but he had no denied it. All he could say were irritating phrases, "Sire cannot be wrong. As you wish, Sire. If you that is what you wish, Sire." The perfect servant couldn't answer in any other way. Arthur did not throw the man in the dungeon, if he was the warlock there was no need to alienate him. However he did have George confined to his quarters. The polished response was accepting. Of course... George merely stated that this would be a good opportunity to clean for himself, for once.
Nonetheless, Aggravaine had assigned two knights to accompany Arthur around the palace. He said it was for security. Emrys was an Oath Breaker – according to druid writings and this meant that no vow, even the vow of service was not to be trusted. It was unknown if Emrys might turn on them. Aggravaine demanded to interview Merlin, declaring no thread should remain unraveled – but Arthur stepped in. He wanted to be the one to talk to Merlin. He did not approve of his uncle's mannerisms and if Merlin were in one of his... girlish... ehm.. senstitive... ehm... emotional moods – well then he wanted to be the one talking to him. He had to handle it personally. He was guilty of doing magic and he needed to be spoken to about that.
He just hoped that Merlin would be calm. He was bound to panic, cry, and maybe even try to disappear. No, Merlin would never leave him. Merlin already promised that he was Arthur's servant until the day that he died. Arthur held back a chuckle. He really needed to patch things up with Gwen, work out their problems and then marry. At this rate, he had already gotten a until death do us part promise and he really did not fancy the only truly committed relationship in his life to be that between himself and his manservant.
"Stay outside, do not listen. Do not interfere," Arthur commanded as he placed his hand on the handle and froze. He didn't want to do this. He had to do this or someone else would do this. Arthur fought turning around again. Indecision is not royal, he told himself as he listened for noises within. However, he heard nothing. Perhaps they hadn't returned "home" yet? Arthur took a breath, swallowed, and pushed the door open.
The occupants were in, but were not talking. Instead they were sitting at one of the benches, both with a mug in hand. Merlin's eyes were red and puffy and Gaius was pale. Neither were startled by the sudden intrusion. Arthur's manservant gave his master a weak smile in greeting.
"So there you are, you lazy bum," forced Arthur. He gave an awkward smile to Gaius, who thankfully looked just as upset as he felt! The elderly man sputtered a greeting. He put down his mug and took up one of Merlin's long and thin hands in his and gave it a squeeze. Merlin caught his breath and nodded.
"Sire, I have some medicine to deliver... Would I be permitted to... well, as it's not me you've come to see," Gaius struggled against the words. He'd not taken his eyes from the welled up watery eyes of his ward who's trembling lips tried to smile.
Arthur admitted it was probably best to have this conversation in private. Merlin winced, but did not do much else other than continue his impression of a trapped rabbit.
Gaius poured a fresh mug and put it on the table, gesturing to Arthur that it was for him.
Arthur thanked him.
Gaius left.
Gods, this was awkward!
"I am really sorry I never told you, but I couldn't tell you. Magic being illegal and everything. The timing was... well, never right," confessed his manservant. Arthur's chest felt full, the pride he had in his friend was overwhelming. Merlin would always be brave when he should be scared. He would be scared when he should be brave. If he was both, the bravery would win in the end.
Arthur smiled, "I'm sorry as well. I'm sorry I drove you to magic. You do know that all the times I called you a girl... I didn't really mean it? You are one of the bravest, most trustworthy, loyal and you are a stubborn ... devoted .. friend," Arthur remembered his father's speeches when he would talk about friendship and love – feelings. He said these things to everyone he needed to apologize to, instead of saying that he was wrong. He had done it to Arthur and Morganna. The "you mean too much to me" lecture that excused his cruelty and his unfairness. Arthur swallowed awkwardly, if only his father had not taught him that an emotional Pendragon was a lying Pendragon, he might have been able to tell Merlin the truth.
"You didn't drive me to magic," corrected Merlin. "I've always have had magic."
"But, George? Didn't he teach you magic?" Arthur asked confused.
"George?" Merlin laughed softly, shaking his head. "How could George teach me magic?" Merlin scrubbed at the tears that were threatening to fall.
Arthur took a sip of the simple honeyed mead that Gaius had left for him. He already did not like the way this conversation was going. Merlin sorrowful was taking the full blame. As he had tried to do many times. He had confessed to using magic time and time again for the sake of saving lives. Once again he was covering for another, although now Arthur was obligated to take him more seriously.
It wasn't, how could George teach me magic? Or even a how could George teach me magic? It should have been, how could George teach me magic?
"I admit he is much more skilled, as a manservant, than I am – however I've always considered myself more like your domestic body guard."
"George didn't teach you magic..."
"Arthur," Merlin's tone was back to its normal mothering flavor, "Arthur, he is marvelous at everything, especially polishing, but I assure you... George doesn't have magic. He couldn't have taught me anything."
Arthur shook his head, this wasn't going the way he had planned.
"Honestly, Arthur. Excellence isn't a sign of magic," scolded Merlin. "Why is it that people assume that having magic means being perfect? Or being able to do anything? Magic's not like that. Magic is – well think of it as a possibility. Or you could think of it as a probability? Well, actually that's not fair, just because I can – sometimes make something happen, doesn't mean the average magic user can."
Arthur felt cornered. The room was smaller than it had ever been before. Gaius had never been as well stocked before. There were barrels of powdered herbs, large glass jars of oils, and pots of growing plants around the place – that seemed to press their presence more dominantly. Arthur doubted he had ever seen this room so well stocked.
Merlin coughed, not to get his attention. Hastily he drank from his mug and put it down delicately. He coughed again and pulled a face, "Arthur, I hope you can accept my apology for not telling you."
"Who taught you how to do magic?" demanded Arthur. "Someone has to be responsible. Someone had to have taught you. If it wasn't George, which is very hard to believe that it wasn't – then who? Who is responsible for you being able to hold off Morganna? If you could do all that, why didn't you do anything in the Darkling Woods to protect yourself better? Why did you just merely dodge her? Why..."
"I've only interfered when I had no choice, Arthur."
"Merlin?! Who taught you magic? I promise I won't do anything to them."
Merlin sniffled, but he did not divert his eyes. His gaze captured Arthur's own. The room became even smaller, the walls pressing in against Arthur. He longed to be outside. He wanted air. He could barely breathe and when Merlin answered, his world shattered, "Arthur, I've always had magic. I was born with it."
"Impossible," barked Arthur. "Gaius has told me that a person is either born with the potential or not, and that ability depends on the natural inclination to do or not to do magic. That said, you weren't born with it – Merlin. No one is – no one except for one so-called magical being, Emrys."
"Yeah I know," Merlin's voice was soft and small. He clutched the thin wool blanket tighter around his shoulders. His neckerchief was missing, so the top of bandages that Gaius had wound around the boy's chest showed. The white peak was assuring to Arthur so the gesture of pulling the blanket tighter hid that small sign of weakness. "Believe me, I wasn't thrilled when I found out about the.. Emrys thing, either. However, I cannot deny it any longer."
"Deny it?"
"Arthur, I am Emrys," confessed Merlin, the emotional idiot, with fresh wet tracks lining his cheeks. He rested his head on his hand, splayed fingers caging his tragic face... Merlin fought his tears no more, the tears flowed as easily as the rain fell.