A/N: Longest chapter yet coming your way! Which explains why I've updated on a Sunday rather than a Saturday - proofreading has taken ages -_-

Thanks again for the reviews and everything :D I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Just to not cause confusion; we are back in Merlin's POV here, and at the start he is still in Arthur's dream :)

I don't own Merlin.

5

Merlin's inability to comprehend what was happening to Arthur was topped only by his revulsion for the sorcerer that was doing this to the Prince. Merlin never understood why sorcerers would target Arthur in this way. Wherever he went, Merlin often found himself recognised by the Druids or by sorcerers as 'Emrys'. Any who knew him by that name surely also knew of the future he was to build with Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, right? Did they not understand that, if they just let it be, one day Arthur would be King and Merlin would be by his side as his most trusted magical advisor? Did they not understand that, so long as Arthur lived and Merlin stayed by his side, one day magic users would be free to no longer stay in hiding?

But then, there were sorcerers who probably craved some kind of revenge. Uther had slaughtered so many, and Merlin supposed that hatred flooded the ones who were left behind. Vengeance filled their hearts and souls and minds, and they trained, trained until they were ready to take down the Pendragon dynasty for all its crimes. People like that would, most likely, not care of the future; only care for the past, and righting all the wrong that had been done in their eyes.

Maybe not everyone agreed with the idea of Arthur's eventual reign, either. Maybe sorcerers saw Arthur to be just like his father; a tyrant, a hateful man who would murder innocents for what happened years into the past. Merlin knew this not to be true – he'd seen proof on many occasions – and just wished everyone else could see in Arthur what he saw in him; a brave, strong man who would put the life of any other man before himself and who would grow into a merciful King that the people would adore. Arthur, despite his self-loving attitude and his arrogance, was definitely not a tyrant.

As he watched the scene in front of him – Arthur dreaming of his own execution – he heard a voice call to him in his head. "Emrys," It called, a harsh whispering voice, "Emrys."

"Yes?" He replied, his eyes leaving Arthur for a second. He located the voice and found that it was inside Arthur's head, just like he was.

"I must speak with you, Emrys."

Merlin would've frowned, had he been talking to the man's face, "Are you the one who is doing this to Arthur?"

"I am the sorcerer from Arthur's dreams, yes." The voice admitted, "But I am not responsible for this dream. These happenings are of Arthur's creation."

"What do you mean?"

"You must come to me, Emrys." The voice said, "Leave the Prince and come to me."

Merlin watched the despair on Arthur's face as he was led closer and closer to his doom, the silent yet effective plea for help, and couldn't bring his feet to move. "But-,"

"You will see your future King again soon enough, but first, I must speak with you." The voice assured him gently. Merlin swallowed, looking back at Arthur with an apology in his eyes. Arthur seemed to understand, for he just fought more violently.

I'm sorry, Merlin mouthed to his Prince, who began struggling intensely.

"No!" Arthur yelled, repeating the defiance harshly as Merlin stepped away. It took all of Merlin's self-will to fight against the instinct which told him to protect his Once and Future King, stepping back once, twice; further and further back until he was out of the crowd.

The courtyard disappeared before his very eyes. Merlin looked around and found himself in a clearing. The clearing he usually spoke to Kilgharrah in.

"Emrys,"

A voice behind him alerted Merlin that he was not alone. He rotated around to see a cloaked figure only about ten feet away. Merlin counted to three before taking a few steps towards the figure, summoning all of his Emrys-instincts that gave him some kind of power above most sorcerers.

"Who are you?" He asked the figure, surprised by the authority that came out in his tone. He'd spent too long around Arthur, he concluded.

"My name is Algar," The figure replied, respect highlighting his croaking voice. "I am honoured to meet you, Emrys."

Though flattered at the man's supposed respect for him, Merlin wouldn't let himself be distracted from what this man had done. He tried to imagine he was in Arthur's position; seeing to a bandit who had complimented him on his swordplay. "What are you doing to Arthur?" He demanded.

"I have done nothing to the Prince," Algar insisted, "I am only here to watch over these events."

"What events?"

Algar sighed, "There are many prophecies about you, Emrys." He explained, "As there are for Arthur. Your destiny together is to unite Albion as two sides of a coin."

"I've been told." Merlin commented, remembering the great destiny Kilgharrah never failed to remind him of with a roll of his eyes.

"But you are destined to be the magical side of this coin." Algar continued, "Not Arthur."

Merlin raised an eyebrow, "So what are you saying?"

"There were few prophets who spoke of Arthur's magic." Algar began, "A child, born of magic, ironically grows to hate and fear it, to fight it. His path is far from magical; you are supposed to be the magic in his life. Only a few ever believed that the true nature of his birth would lead to this – that the sorceress Nimueh's magic would leave a mark on the Prince in this way."

Merlin had to think for a few seconds and reconsider the words just to make sure he was hearing Algar right. "Are you saying…" His shook his head in disbelief, "Arthur's a sorcerer?"

Algar bowed his head a little, "That is for you to find out yourself, Emrys." He said, "The part I have to play in Arthur's destiny is over. However, your part is just beginning."

Merlin frowned at the cryptic message that was so similar to the ones Kilgharrah would deliver, and before he could voice his confusion, the surroundings began to distort, fade. Merlin gasped. The spell was wearing off.

"Remember, Emrys," Algar spoke – his voice was fading, but Merlin could hear it echo in his ears, "You must teach Arthur, if he is ever to learn."

"Teach him what?"

"That is for you to decide." Merlin could hear the assured smile in Algar's tone, "Farewell, Emrys."

Merlin opened his eyes. He was on his bed, cross-legged.

The events of Arthur's dream came flooding back to Merlin; the execution, Arthur's pleading eyes, Algar's message. He rocketed up to his feet and strode towards the door. He passed his sleeping mentor as quietly as he could, with one thought circling his mind.

He needed to talk to Kilgharrah.

"Young warlock. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Kilgharrah landed with a mighty thud in the clearing Merlin had been in only a few minutes ago – or, an illusion of it, from Arthur's mind. The Great Dragon smiled down at the Dragon Lord, but Merlin did not return the smile. His expression was straight, and his thoughts were jumbled up in his brain and he couldn't really comprehend his own purpose for being there.

Grabbing hold of the major thought in his mind, he voiced it to Kilgharrah. "Why didn't you tell me about the prophecy of Arthur having magic?"

Kilgharrah's large head stooped so that it was level with Merlin. "The prophecy was never one I truly believed." He admitted.

"But now it has come true." Merlin said.

"It would appear so." Kilgharrah agreed. The warlock ran his hand through his hair in irritation.

None of this made sense. None of it matched what he had always perceived as his future with Arthur. He had always been, as Algar had said, the magical side of the coin. What would happen now? Not that Merlin jealous of his Prince's magic – that Arthur would become both sides of their, until then, shared coin – but he was worried for the Prince's safety. What would Uther do if he found out? What would Arthur say, what would he think of himself? All his life, Arthur had been taught to fight magic like it was evil itself – heck, he believed that magic was evil itself. Magic had, in Arthur's eyes, corrupted Morgana, threatened the lives of people he loved, almost turned Arthur himself against his own father and nearly caused the downfall of the Kingdom time and time again… what was Arthur to think if, and when, he found out he had magic? Would he deny it, ignore it? Would he think of himself as a monster? Merlin couldn't allow Arthur to be driven insane, to believe himself to be evil – maybe he would be driven so far off the edge of sanity that he'd actually become evil; maybe he would even end up trying to kill Uther. He had almost done it once already before, after all, and that was before he had magical powers.

"And if it is so, you cannot allow it to corrupt him." Kilgharrah told Merlin, as if he could hear Merlin's inner thoughts. The warlock looked up at him, confused.

"Magic doesn't corrupt." Merlin said, "Not always – look at me."

"That is true, young warlock," Kilgharrah nodded, "but Arthur does not know that. Arthur has grown with this belief his whole life; he is convinced that magic is an evil force that cannot be trusted. You must show him that this is not the case – if Arthur turns against his father, or banishes himself in fear of doing so, your destiny cannot be fulfilled." Kilgharrah said solemnly. "The dream you hold for Albion is certain to fall."

Merlin nodded his head in agreement. "Thank you, Kilgharrah."

"I am only aiding you in the success of your destiny." The dragon took a step back, bowing his head once more to the young Dragon Lord, "I trust that you know what to do."

Then Kilgharrah's wings burst open, and he crouched before launching into the air, his great wings thrusting him gracefully through the sky. Merlin watched until the dragon was only a dot in the sky, and he turned back, running straight back to the citadel.

Back to Arthur.

Merlin was kind of shocked to see a guard turn into the corridor towards Gaius's chambers. He followed the guard, called after him. The guard turned, recognised Merlin, and stopped.

"What's going on?" Merlin asked. The guard proceeded to tell Merlin of the situation, clearly trusting the Prince's manservant.

"Prince Arthur wishes to see the Court Physician."

Merlin gulped. Arthur must've woken up. What if he'd discovered his powers? Merlin grabbed the opportunity to speak to him with both hands and held on tight – best get started with proving to Arthur that magic wasn't all bad straight away, before he could get too caught up in it all.

"I just came from Gaius' chambers," He told the guard, "He's fast asleep; you won't get anything out of him. I could go and see to Arthur." The guard blinked in disbelief.

"The Prince requires a physician…" The guard said, clearly trying not to offend the manservant. Merlin shrugged.

"I've picked up a lot from Gaius over the years." Merlin objected happily, offering his typical Merlin-smile. The guard seemed reluctant, but he didn't seem willing to argue, and let Merlin go, following him all the way to Arthur's room.

"Merlin?"

The Prince shot up onto his feet as his manservant bounced into his chambers, smiling friendlily. It was a bright, healthy change to the apologetic, heartbroken look Arthur had last seen on the boy's face – both in reality and in his mind – and so Arthur tried to remind himself of that as he selected the correct words to reprimand the manservant.

However, he didn't get the chance. The glass that was still pressed into his foot dug further in as he foolishly tried to get up from his seat on the bed, and the Prince collapsed back onto the bed, cringing. Merlin ran across the room to Arthur's side, sitting on the bed next to him.

"Arthur, what…?" Merlin stopped himself from speaking as he spots the broken mirror out of the corner of his eye. He looked down at the Prince's foot and winced.

"Where's Gaius?" Arthur asked, ignoring his pain.

"Asleep." Merlin explained, "But I'm here."

Arthur's eyebrow rose in bewilderment, "Merlin, you think you can take care of my foot?" Merlin nodded innocently. "How? Are you going to talk the glass to boredom so that it falls out of my foot and runs away? Or are you going to step in the glass yourself, just for empathy's sake?" Arthur was joking, but something gnawed at the back of his mind that said that he knew Merlin would walk through miles of glass just to keep the Prince safe.

Arthur could see Merlin struggling over his wording and he didn't know why. Merlin sighed and replied, "I'm not here about your foot." There was something in Merlin's tone – solemn and low – which made Arthur shudder. He turned to see the guard he had sent away to get Gaius stood in the door and dismissed him. He then faced his servant.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, his volume low and his tone almost dark. Merlin gulped, dropping his eyes to his lap. Clearly, after their argument hours ago, Merlin was unsure of exactly how to speak to his Master. It frustrated Arthur. Most of the time, Merlin didn't know when to shut up.

"Your dreams." Merlin finally said. Arthur's eyes narrowed. Merlin, obviously seeing this, cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his tone was confident again. "Arthur-,"

"What did I tell you about them?" Arthur cut him off, his tone unfriendly, and he turned away from his manservant.

Like any other time, Merlin was unyielding. At least he was back to his persistent self. His moment of silence and difficulty in speaking seemed to be over. "You told me to not talk about them, yes; but let's be honest Arthur; when do I really listen to you?"

Arthur couldn't help chuckling, "Seems to be a very crucial part of this relationship," He admitted with a slight smile, "Neither of us listening to each other."

Merlin smiled lightly, "It would seem that way, wouldn't it?"

Arthur shrugged, staring at his foot, which was now resting on a pillow Merlin had placed on the floor for him. "So I suppose you're not going to leave here until I tell you what's wrong."

Merlin grinned, "You know me too well, Sire."

Arthur couldn't help but smile at Merlin's comic nature, which he seemed to display in even the direst situations. "Well, you'd best make yourself useful while I tell you." The Prince decided, "Do you think you can use whatever ounce of talent that may be residing somewhere in your core to treat my foot?"

Merlin smiled. "I can surely try, Sire."

Arthur had decided, with a smile, that Merlin really was more talented than he gave the boy credit for. Not that he'd ever tell him, that is. He'd clearly picked up a lot from Gaius over the years – he'd known what to do to treat Arthur's injury from the word go. He had speedily gone to get cold water to wash the foot (he'd said that this would do the both of them the world of good as Arthur's foot would be cleaned and wouldn't stink so bad. Arthur had replied with a very non-clever retort about Merlin's hygiene hardly being as good as that of his own) and Merlin was now, carefully, trying to remove the largest splint from the foot.

"So, you were going to tell me about your dreams?" Merlin brought up the point as he examined the glass sticking out of Arthur's foot studiously.

Arthur sighed, "Ah, yes. I hoped you'd forget."

"You promised you'd tell me." Merlin said.

"I didn't promise, exactly." Arthur retorted, but he knew it wasn't fair to be difficult when Merlin was being such a good friend and so he dropped the point hastily. Merlin's expectant, large eyes were enough to convince the Prince to finally answer his question. He could trust Merlin, he knew he could. His presence was calm, familiar (but in a way that Arthur didn't recognise from the past), and his eyes encouraged confidence without demanding it. Yes, Arthur could trust Merlin – even with a secret as earth-moving as this.

"My dreams…" The Prince began. "Well, I've been having nightmares, as you already know. Four nights, so far."

Merlin nodded, but did not reply, and so Arthur took that as a sign to continue.

"There was… a sorcerer in the first three. At first he would not show his face; I could just… feel him there." Arthur groaned as he realised how odd the words sounded outside his head; odder than they had inside of his head, that was for sure.

But when he snuck a glance at Merlin, he noticed that he was still sat stationary, with a thoughtful, considerate look on his face. Almost… understanding.

Arthur cleared his throat. He didn't like having long heart-to-heart chats, especially not with his manservant of all people. But he knew that this was something he had to do; confess. He had to get it out of his system, share the story with someone so that he was not alone, and, well, who better than Merlin, who was Arthur's number one confider alongside Guinevere?

"Amongst other things…" Arthur thought, cringing at the memory of the sorcerer insulting Arthur's talents and calling him 'ignorant'. "…he reminded me of…" He swallowed. This was a point he had discarded upon waking up from this dream, "…of Morgana's magic. Of her nightmares. He reminded me of how she was plagued by them and, in the years following, she fell to magic; she betrayed us."

Arthur's voice began to fail him towards the end of the sentence and his eyes fell into his lap. This was the first time he'd really pieced Morgana's betrayal together with his own nightmares – first time without any denial, that is – and as he did he realised just how much trouble he was in.

He turned to Merlin once again, whose gaze was still soft and understanding, calculating and curious. Either he hadn't yet pieced together what Arthur was saying, or did not understand the intensity of it. Maybe he did understand, but just didn't care. Maybe the news didn't phase Merlin, and that just proved what he had dreamt - that Merlin would stick by Arthur's side unconditionally.

"I've been trying to deny it, ignore it. But ignoring a problem doesn't make it go away; I know that. My dream tonight, well, it confirmed my worries."

Taking a deep breath, Arthur spoke his greatest fear aloud for the first time.

"Merlin… I think I have magic."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur had been busily working away over the last few minutes to consider what a person's reaction would be once he told them of what he had silently been fearing for these few days. He had planned out people's responses and then planned out exactly what he would do or say in return to these responses.

In Guinevere's case she would give him a rational argument as to why this wasn't so, and Arthur would try to remain calm and convince her otherwise; cautiously, so to not upset her.

As for his father, Uther would either give some sort of amused chuckle in rejection at Arthur's words, or some kind of dark fury would be directed at him for even daring to suggest that he was a sorcerer; the monsters that the King had hunted for over twenty years. Arthur was unsure of how he would've reacted to that - he found it difficult at the best of times to speak to his father.

Merlin's reaction was easier to predict; it was most likely a laugh, and an insult thrown ever so casually in the Prince's direction, to which Arthur would've rolled his eyes before he tried to convince his servant that he was telling the truth. Arthur probably could've stood right in front of Merlin and, should he have known one, performed some extravagant spell, and Merlin's only reaction would've been a derisive snort in amusement and a muttered, "clot pole" or "dollop head."

That was what Arthur expected, of course, but another thing Arthur knew about Merlin was that he was full of surprises. The manservant, who was usually clumsier and more foolish than any man Arthur knew, was no longer treating the foot and was instead gazing at Arthur with thought – no, with an understanding beyond thought.

Considering Merlin's usual idiotic behaviour, which was displayed on a regular basic, Arthur often forgot the moments when Merlin was, really, quite wise; wiser than most men Arthur knew. Perhaps Merlin was not going to be oblivious or disagreeing in this conversation, like Arthur had assumed; was not going to deny the Prince's beliefs or claims – perhaps Merlin would listen intently to Arthur's dreams and problems and fears, and would believe Arthur; that is, should Arthur give him reason to. When Arthur stopped to think about it, he recalled Merlin's uncanny ability of being able to see straight through people – traitors, sorcerers; he'd even known of Arthur's feelings for Guinevere before the Prince had even dared risking his pride to admit it. How was Merlin, the idiot, such an excellent judge of character? Was it just pure luck? Did he just have an eye for certain people, certain emotions?

Arthur shuffled under Merlin's gaze (something he never would've done before), but quickly Merlin's eyes dropped. The silence continued for seconds, and Arthur didn't dare to break it as he tried to decipher that look in Merlin's eyes – what was it? Regret? Betrayal? Sadness? Disappointment – in either Arthur or in himself? Merlin was a riddle indeed – so much so that Arthur couldn't even place the emotion that was so heavy in Merlin's eye. A tiny flicker of a thought suggested something which normally Arthur wouldn't have suspected in a million years – understanding? – but it then dove into the back of Arthur's mind where it was forgotten.

Finally, the silence was broken. "Prove it." Merlin muttered. Arthur blinked.

"What?"

"You said you have magic." Merlin said, lifting his head and facing Arthur, challenge flickering in his voice. It was forced, like Merlin was trying to desperately cling on to any banter the two of them had shared before. "Show me."

"Er," Arthur paused, looking around the room as if inspiration would fly out of nowhere. It struck him as Merlin went to gingerly work on his foot again.

"The mirror."

"What?"

"When I woke up, I…" Arthur stopped himself in light of one of their most recent banter battles, "I… might have screamed." Merlin gave a smile in memory of their conversation the other day, and Arthur returned a fake glare. "Shut up, Merlin."

"I didn't say anything." The manservant objected, before adding, "What does your manly girl's scream have to do with the mirror?"

Arthur forgot about the mirror, for a second, losing himself in their brotherly teasing, "I don't have a girl's scream."

"Whatever you say, princess."

"Don't call me that." Arthur said sternly, hiding a cringe, "You're worse than Gwaine."

"Hey, I try!" Merlin chuckled, but there was something dark in his eye, somewhat like a shadow, in light of the true nature of their conversation, and so Arthur continued with his story.

"While I screamed… I felt something." Arthur paused, unable to piece together exactly what he had felt after waking up from this latest nightmare. "I don't know how to describe it. It was like… a buzzing in my ears. A presence of some sorts – I hadn't felt it before in my life." Arthur looked to Merlin to check he was still with him, but Merlin clearly needed no aid in keeping up with their conversation. There were only a rare few times when Arthur had seen Merlin so serious, and that's when he realised that Merlin was certainly not denying Arthur's suspicions – rather, he seemed to believe them, right down in his core. He was just waiting to see for himself that it was right.

Arthur then remembered Merlin's hesitance and suspicion when this change – clearly the awakening of Arthur's magic – occurred. Had Merlin known of the magic? No, of course he wouldn't have. How could a mere servant know of such a great change in Arthur when the Prince himself didn't know it?

"And then it all came to a halt." Arthur continued, not letting himself get too lost in his thoughts for now; not until Merlin knew the full story. "That's when the mirror broke." Arthur shifted his line of vision to the mirror and pointed, illustrating his story. "I also managed, somehow, to open and shut my door; I didn't need to touch it."

Merlin was suddenly intrigued. "Can I see?" Arthur looked hesitant, "The guards aren't out there; it's alright." Merlin comforted him. The Prince was still unsure.

"You have to promise that you won't tell anyone." He told his servant; first threatening, and then he sighed and said carefully, "Promise me."

Merlin's eyes reflected pain at Arthur's own pain, and he nodded quickly. "I promise." He said, and it was with so much assurance and belief that Arthur, for a moment, forgot that he was about to demonstrate a little magic to his manservant, when it was against his own father's most stringent law. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and preparing himself. He didn't know why, but some sort of outside force was pretty much demanding him that Merlin had to see this. Perhaps the sorcerer in his mind? But why would he care about Merlin?

Arthur sighed. He wasn't going to distract himself anymore - he just needed to finally get this out in the open. He needed to feel the proof that his magic was real. In his first attempt at magic – though it hadn't been of his own choice to perform – he hadn't felt anything, but when he'd broken the mirror, the energy, the power, had been buzzing excitedly surrounding him. Arthur found the buzz after a few seconds – it was loud and impossible to ignore once found – and he opened his eyes again, outstretching his hand towards the door. It creaked open, weakly; but it did it. Someone had seen his magic – seen proof.

And now there was no turning back.

Arthur didn't know what he'd expected to see on Merlin's face, but he was shocked to see the awe-inspired smile, the wide eyes, and something – was that hope? – bubbling on the inside. Arthur didn't know why he knew that – he obviously wasn't a great judge of character, after the countless betrayals that had occurred right in front of his oblivious face, and he certainly couldn't read Merlin very well. But now, Merlin's emotions, and everything else, just seemed… obvious. Was it because of the magic?

And then it all rushed to him like a galloping horse, and when Merlin finally removed his eyes from the door to glance back at Arthur, his hands were holding his heavy head, and he shook it gently. Merlin spoke, and his voice sounded apprehensive and unsure.

"Arthur…?"

"This isn't good."

"What are you…?"

"No, this isn't good at all… Merlin, what am I- Agh!"

In his confusion and his panic, Arthur had tried to get up and begin pacing, which only served him poorly as he aggravated it. Merlin had got the splinters out of his foot, but the wound was still not healed, not even bandaged. Merlin carefully touched Arthur's arm, comforting him with soft words as he sat back down. The Prince couldn't have cared less about his injury, though – he was more worried about the other major event of the night.

"Merlin, what am I going to do?"

Merlin apparently caught the confusion, the despair, in Arthur's tone, because his face hardened to a frown. "I don't know." He admitted.

"Exactly." Arthur scowled, before silently reprimanding himself for snapping at Merlin because it wasn't Merlin's fault. "I'm sorry." Arthur muttered.

"Arthur, it's alright-,"

"No, Merlin, it's not." Arthur replied firmly. "I'm a sorcerer. I've fought their kind all my life; fought against the evils of magic. Now I'm one of them! What… what would my father say?!" Arthur's voice had risen to a remarkably loud volume. Merlin attempted to hush him and placed a gentle hand on the Prince's arm, but in his moments of rage Arthur scowled and shoved it off and carried on yelling. "Since Morgana left, I'm all he has in this world; if my father were to find this out, then what? He'd have no-one!"

Merlin swallowed, clearly choosing his words wisely, "That's not true." He said, trying to put as much confidence and belief into his tone as he could muster, though it wasn't that easy.

"Yes, it is." Arthur insisted, though his volume had dropped – maybe he'd remembered the situation and the time of night and so didn't want to risk waking others. "Think about it, Merlin – we lost Morgana to the evils of magic. She received her magic and she was no longer our Morgana." Realisation struck Arthur like a lightning bolt. He felt his mouth go all too dry. "Merlin…" He said, his voice now just a mumble, "The magic turned her against us. The sorceress, Morgause… she took Morgana and taught her magic and turned her against her own father, the people she'd cared about all her life."

Merlin seemed apprehensive to reply; this was unlike Merlin, and should Arthur have been calmer he'd have slapped his servant and told him to get on with it. He seemed like he wanted to disagree with Arthur's words (why, though, Arthur did not know. He knew he spoke the truth), but at the last second he changed his tune. "So what's your point?"

Arthur didn't want to admit his fears; as if he did, he was worried they may come true. He looked up at Merlin, his blue eyes filled with a panic he had almost never shown to Merlin – shown to anyone, for that matter.

"What if I am destined for that path too?"

Merlin's eyes widened in realisation and slight horror. Merlin had finally reached the denial stage. "Arthur, no-,"

"I'm a sorcerer, Merlin!" Arthur bellowed, "Magic is evil, and it corrupts. It corrupted Morgana, and it will corrupt me."

Merlin was shaking his head quickly, his faith in his master clearly undying, "No, no, that isn't true…"

"Well, what do you think, Merlin?" Arthur asked sarcastically, "After all, you know so much about magic-,"

"You'd be surprised!" Merlin shot back.

Arthur's eyes narrowed, "What?" Now that Arthur thought about it, Merlin had something similar to that before - after Arthur had claimed that he couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it. Arthur was too angry to start considering this point, though, and so it was buried into the back of his mind.

For a second, Merlin seemed like he wanted to tell Arthur something that was burning away inside of him, but he shook his head. "Well… er, Gaius was a sorcerer a few years back, wasn't he? Before the purge… and he's not evil."

Arthur was not convinced. It was like he hadn't even heard Merlin as he spoke his next words. "No. No, I won't let this happen."

He got up, ignoring Merlin's protests and the pain jolting up his foot, and walked to find a bag to pack things into. Merlin jumped to his feet.

"What are you doing?" He asked apprehensively, "You're aggravating your injury."

"I'm getting out of here." Arthur declared.

"Arthur-,"

"I am a danger to my own father, Merlin!" Arthur growled, "Surely it is only a matter of time before-," he shook his head, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur. He knew in his heart that this was the best thing to do. Morgana was now a murderous witch who wanted Camelot to fall, wanted to take the throne for herself and turn Camelot's future to chaos. If Arthur was destined for the same fate… he couldn't stay in Camelot. Not anymore. He would live in solitude, away from Camelot, away from anyone who could tempt him over to the side of evil. He looked up at Merlin, his decision made. "I will not let myself kill my own father. I'll give up my claim to the throne-,"

"But-,"

"I'll leave Camelot at first light and never return."

"Arthur-,"

"That way I won't be a threat." Arthur finished, shooting a pointed glare at Merlin for interrupting. He packed a couple of shirts into the bag, while Merlin paced for a few moments. Arthur's attention was mostly on packing, but he kept glancing suspiciously up at his manservant, who seemed to be at war with himself. He looked like he wanted to say something – something big, something important. Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to hear it, but then he sighed, unable to put up with his persistent pacing any longer.

"What is it, Merlin?"

"Huh?"

With wide eyes and a dropped jaw, Merlin looked just like his normal bumbling self. But there was something behind his eyes, though; something deep, something dark… Arthur could see behind Merlin's eyes that there was something he did not know about his servant. He'd never seen it before, and so put his discovery of it down to his magic. It was, after all, making everything so clear to him. It was clear now that there was more to Merlin than Arthur had ever suspected - of course, he had once had suspicions about his funny manservant, but now, they weren't just suspicions. Thanks to his magic, they were facts. Merlin was hiding something, something that he was fighting an internal battle over at that second.

"Go on. You obviously want to say something useless, so I'm waiting for it."

Merlin looked down to his boots. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. His face looked strained, and Arthur wondered what was affecting the boy. He looked up again and there was determination on his face; an emotion Merlin could only be associated with in the direst of moments.

"You won't be a threat to your father."

"Oh, really?" Arthur scoffed, "I'm a trained warrior, with magic. You're telling me I'm like a delicate little flower and my father's perfectly safe around me? I'be almost killed him once before, remember? And that was without the magic!"

"No, I mean you won't harm him." Merlin continued, "You won't want to – I won't let you."

Arthur stared at Merlin incredulously, "Er, no offence, Merlin, but you were hardly a match for me without my magic." My magic… The label felt wrong.

Another glance down. A nod. With determination, Merlin rushed over to a candle on Arthur's table. He stood across the table from Arthur and held it in both his hands.

"Merlin, what are you-,"

"I'm showing you that you don't need to leave." Merlin said. There was a sense of importance in his tone that stopped Arthur from scolding Merlin for his interruption. His tone was… gravitational, other-worldly. The air around him buzzed with excitement.

"Not all magic is bad, Arthur; I know it isn't." He sent a small smile in Arthur's direction, while the Prince gazed on with confusion. "I will prove that to you. I will help you; that's a promise." Merlin was gentle in his speech, as he whispered, "It's going to be alright," and it reminded Arthur so much of the voice from his latest dream that the air – the magic, he placed – was almost singing.

Merlin closed his eyes, and muttered in a different language. He opened his eyes and they glowed – glowed a brilliant gold. That gold was then reflected on the small flame that appeared; it danced gently atop the candle wick, beautiful and awe-inspiring.

Arthur almost missed it. He was so caught up in the beauty and the wonder of the moment; but when the flame disappeared as silently as it had arrived, when the magic surrounding him died down to a quiet murmur, when he looked up to see the face of his now-cautious manservant, he realised what he had just witnessed.

Magic.

Merlin knew magic.

Merlin performed magic.

Merlin had magic.

A/N: Don't attack me with bricks! Sorry, but cliffhangers are so fun. And yay, reveal fic :P It was so difficult to write a reveal considering how many times people have written a reveal and done it beautifully (and, in turn, not so beautifully) but I hope that was at least a little satisfying.

And what about that? At least half of this monster chapter was dedicated to Merlin and Arthur! Yayyy :D And we'll have some more of that next chapter, trust me.

See you next weekend! I'm off of school for two weeks now, so I'm hoping to get this story finished very soon. I've almost caught up with myself though, so we will see :)

~Amy x