A/N: And here we are, at chapter 6. I have yet to complete the story - I'm still on chapter 7 - though I still think the chapter count is at 7 and an epilogue, so we're nearing the end! I am hoping to write more Merlin, though - so if you're willing to read it, I'll certainly be here to write it! I already have a one-shot planned, which should be pretty exciting :D

Thank you again for everyone's reactions to the last chapter - they were most appreciated!

Enjoy! I don't own Merlin.

6

When running back to Camelot from the clearing where he'd met with Kilgharrah, Merlin had ran through, so many times in his head, different ways of convincing Arthur that everything was going to be all right. Just because he had magic didn't mean that he was a monster.

He didn't know exactly how to do this, but one way that kept forcing itself to the forefront of his mind was to reveal his magic to Arthur. The only problem was that he just couldn't decide whether finally coming clean about his secret would make everything better, or worse.

There were arguments for both sides, but whenever Merlin thought he'd made a decision, he would feel edgy inside, like he'd made the wrong one. On the one hand, revealing his own magic would help to show Arthur that Merlin knew how it felt; to be on the edge, to be afraid of what you were, to be in danger every second of every day for reasons that were out of your control. Just because he was different… that didn't make him a freak. Merlin knew that. His mother and Gaius had assured him, time and time again, that his powers did not make him something to be feared, and he knew, knew, that any prejudices he'd been faced with in his life, and any secrecies that were of utmost importance because of these prejudices, did not make him a villain. He knew in his heart that he would walk by Arthur's side for the rest of his life if he remained the good and pure man Merlin knew him to be, and that Arthur would feel the same way, because there was a mutual trust and bond and belief they shared between each other and that was all that mattered – Arthur's view on magic, taught to him by his closed-minded, judgemental father, did not matter, so long as he could one day be shown the truth.

Perhaps, that day was coming. Perhaps it was today. And Merlin felt it, deep in his heart; felt that Arthur would not let his prejudices falter his trust and his care in Merlin.

But that was just his irrational and foolish heart leading him in this argument and Merlin knew that Arthur was never truly one to wholly follow his heart – he was a warrior; taught to think strategically, to not let emotions and love get too far in the way of his judgements. Not to mention, Arthur had seen many a traitor in his life, many an evil sorcerer who would falsely earn the trust of the Pendragon household, just to stab a knife in their back (figuratively or literally; take your pick).

But would Arthur see Merlin in that same light, if he revealed his magic? Merlin trusted his Prince, of course – but if Arthur would trust Merlin or not in return was a different question entirely. After all, Merlin's situation was completely different to Arthur's; Merlin wasn't going through a tremendous, life-altering change. Merlin hadn't been fed false knowledge about his own kind for his entire life. Merlin didn't have a liar for a best friend.

But Merlin did have a best friend in Arthur. And he knew that Arthur had never kept any life-changing secrets from him. Arthur was an honest young man with a good heart, and because of this, Merlin wouldn't lie to his best friend any longer.

So his mind was made up, despite the many voices in his head screaming against it. No more lies. No more trouble. Arthur had to know the truth or he may never know the extent of the goodness of magic.

Arthur had to find out. The deceit and lies had to come to an end and the wall that Merlin had so successfully and impressively sustained for years was about to be knocked down. For the good of Arthur.

…Of course, while this decision was for Arthur's own good, when being told the Prince, at first, clearly didn't see it that way. His eyes widened in what Merlin could only describe as astonishment. Merlin began to regret his decision immediately. He shouldn't have done this. With his father falling apart, his half-sister betraying him and the Kingdom, and his own magic coming into the light, Arthur had enough on his plate. Merlin revealing his magic to the Prince was pretty much like loading his plate up even further, and lacing it with poison. Stupid, stupid…

"Stupid."

Merlin lifted his head, wide eyes on the Prince. "What?"

"Why didn't I see it?" Arthur growled, clearly to himself. He placed a hand to his forehead, shaking his head sharply. His face seemed to contort as he thought – a mix of anger and disbelief. Probably not disbelief at Merlin's confession - more disbelieving that he hadn't realised himself.

The silence was unbearable – Merlin wished it would stop. But then, the alternative was probably Arthur shouting at him, and that didn't seem too appealing either. Merlin tried to consider some way to calm the Prince, who had stepped back a few paces, probably needing space. Merlin tried to root through his brain; tried to find, in the vast space of his mind, the conversation he had planned out to have with Arthur while he was debating whether to reveal his magic or not. It was useless, though – he had planned how he could have responded, sure, but he had planned it without the attachment of seeing Arthur's true reaction, feeling his true feelings. After all, the Prince had magic, too, and so Merlin could, through the magic in the air, sense Arthur's despair, his denial, his realisation at his own ignorance, and then his fury.

Fury.

Merlin swallowed as he lifted his head to see Arthur glaring straight at him. "And you!"

Merlin pathetically opened his mouth to speak, but it quivered. He felt fear reverberating through him and, to his surprise, he could feel Arthur's fear, too – however deep-seated and hidden it may have been. Merlin knew Arthur to be a warrior, though, and he knew that when Arthur was afraid, he channelled that fear into fury and battled, fought his way through until either he was defeated, or victorious. Merlin hoped that the battle would be one of words, not of action – he was useless with a sword, and didn't want to harm Arthur with the one thing he could harm him with as that would obliterate his mission of showing Arthur the goodness of magic.

But Arthur was far ahead of Merlin, and he certainly wasn't thinking anything through like Merlin was. His fury was leading him, just like it did in his battles. His eyes burned gold, and Merlin jolted as he felt the tip of the metal sword against his back. He turned his head a little to see the sword floating in mid-air, and Arthur's eyes were still burning that sharp, angry gold.

Merlin raised his hands, slowly, in an attempt to show Arthur that he meant no harm. Carefully, he murmured the Prince's name, "Arthur-,"

"No!" Arthur bellowed, and the sword pressed a little further into Merlin's back as Arthur's eyes glowed violently. The magic in the room was heavily pressing against Merlin – Arthur's newly awakened magic was clearly quite strong and out of control at the moment, probably because of the fury fueling it. But Merlin reminded himself that he was Emrys, and he could certainly out-magic his company if he tried. Wincing, he encouraged his own magic to ease the sword further away from his back, just to lessen his discomfort. He didn't dare to make any sudden movements, though, in case Arthur overreacted and did something he may regret.

Arthur, on the other side of the room, was breathing heavily and unevenly. There seemed to be an internal battle raging on – the anger, which was controlling the magic, versus Arthur's feelings of companionship and trust for his manservant. Merlin wondered, in a small part of his mind, if Arthur still really trusted Merlin at all, or if all that trust had been destroyed at the sight of Merlin's magic.

The tense silence was broken again as Arthur opened his mouth to speak. His voice was harsh, troubled, but low, and more controlled than his previous breathing pattern. "You're a sorcerer."

"Yes."

"You've been lying to me."

Merlin knew he couldn't deny it. Otherwise it was just prove Arthur's point – that he was a liar. Hadn't he promised himself that he would tell no more lies to his future King? "…Yes." He whispered.

"Ever since we met." Arthur's voice was rising in volume, now. His magic was fighting back against Merlin's (though whether he realised what Merlin was doing or not, the warlock wasn't sure), and his sword was nudged a few millimetres further into Merlin's back. Merlin felt something wet and hot trickle down his back and gulped, shooting Arthur a pleading look.

"Arthur…" He said cautiously, like speaking to an agitated creature that he (against his will) and Arthur would hunt, "It's okay."

The magic in Arthur's eyes raged on. The sword remained levitated by Merlin's back. Merlin looked deep into Arthur's eyes and wondered if he had any control over his actions or if it was just the magic taking his emotions and responding to them. Merlin had done that, as a child, when he hadn't yet learned control of his magic. There was that one time in Ealdor when he had laughed so hard, the leaves had all dropped off of the tree he was stood under. There was another time when he had been scared enough of one of the bullies in the village that he had unintentionally conjured a kind of invisible shield which had protected him and his friend for a long time, while the bully had tried (unsuccessfully) to beat his way through and attack the boys. Even when he had came to Camelot, he had had, in the beginning, a little trouble controlling his magic. Out of shock, he had saved Gaius from falling off the balcony in his room. Out of fear and determination, he had slowed time down so that he could reach Arthur in time to stop the dagger the sorceress disguised as Lady Helen had thrown from shooting through his chest and killing him. He understood why Arthur's magic was misbehaving now. But that didn't mean he was enjoying having a sword to his back.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The warlock spoke gently, in his continuous attempt to calm the Prince. The sword began shaking, like it was in the hands of a terrified child. Arthur's eyes flickered, hints of blue fighting at the gold. Arthur's face seemed to contort with an emotion Merlin could not place. Fear? Anger? Determination? But to do what – save Merlin or murder him? "Arthur." Merlin repeated, his voice rising a little in an attempt of authority, but he wasn't very practiced in the art of authoritative speaking, especially to Arthur. In their odd relationship, that role was usually left to the Prince himself. Merlin's voice faltered a little as he tried again. "Arthur. Put the sword down."

Merlin did not believe his effort would be rewarded, but Arthur seemed to regain control of his senses, his emotions. The sword shook a little more, stilled, and then fell to the ground with an almighty clang. The magic in the room calmed to a gentle hum, as if the incident with the sword was forgotten; at least, forgotten by the magic. Merlin still remembered it - it was imprinted well into his mind, and his back.

Arthur, meanwhile, was no longer facing his manservant – was no longer daring to. He had turned quickly on his heels and strode over to his window, which gave him a brilliant view of the courtyard. He folded his arms in a hostile stance and watched out the window, not once even endeavouring a glance at Merlin.

Merlin, bravely or stupidly, swallowed the lump forming in his throat and made a few wary steps towards Arthur. He spent the steps, which felt an eternity apart, trying to think of the next thing to say.

"Arthur-," Well, it was a start.

"You never told me." Arthur interrupted, saving Merlin the trouble. His voice didn't seem angry or cold now – it just seemed small. Sad.

"I couldn't." Merlin replied, his guilt filling his chest like a flood. All reasons for not revealing his magic he had known and believed with all his heart only a few hours ago were evaporating and fleeing, leaving Merlin wondering why he hadn't confessed sooner and berating himself for not doing so. He tried so hard to remind himself of Camelot's strict laws against sorcerers and his impending destiny at Arthur's side which disallowed him from going anywhere, but it all seemed rather redundant now he thought of the friend he had betrayed. What did he seem like now, to Arthur? As bad as Morgause? Morgana? Surely he couldn't believe that.

"Well, why not?" Arthur growled, his volume rising again.

Merlin gripped on to his reasons like they were his lifelines, the very things holding him together. He spoke in a small voice, "Your father would've had me killed."

"He wouldn't have had to know." Arthur protested. Merlin thought about Arthur – loyal to Camelot until the very end – and doubted his secrecy on the matter of Merlin's magic.

"You mean to tell me that if I had told you I was sorcerer, you wouldn't have told the King? Your father?"

Merlin couldn't see Arthur's face crease with frustration from his viewpoint, but he did see the Prince stiffen slightly and knew Arthur had realised what he already had – that Arthur was too close to his father, too loyal, to allow such a betrayal to go unnoticed. Merlin, for the first time since he had shown his magic to Arthur, started to panic about what this reveal meant for him now – for his future in Camelot. That is, if he was even to have a future at all.

"You need to go." Arthur said decisively, "You need to leave."

Merlin's shoulders drooped, "Arthur-,"

"You need to leave here," Arthur repeated, "and so do I."

Merlin realised that Arthur was still driven on leaving Camelot so as to not pose a threat. "Arthur, we can't do that."

"We have magic, Merlin." Arthur snarled disgustedly. He was acknowledging two things he probably never had dreamed of in the same short sentence, and Merlin knew that he couldn't blame Arthur for being petrified. "Did you forget what I just did with the sword, to you? What if I do that to my father? What if I did it, but really did him some harm? I can't risk it. And as for you… you need to get out of here before you stupidly land yourself on the pyre. I'm surprised you haven't done it already."

For a moment, the idea was intriguing. Merlin and Arthur, two sorcerers, on the run from a place where they would be persecuted for who they were, where they were in danger every step they took. Two friends, together. Although that moment was only short. After all, Merlin knew that their true destinies lied in Camelot, and that leaving together was hardly part of Arthur's plans anyway. Due to his anger at both Merlin and himself, Arthur was probably planning isolation from everyone and everything. Running away with Merlin was undoubtedly not on Arthur's mind.

"Arthur, we can't leave." Merlin said, "You're the Crown Prince – you need to be here. You can't go."

Arthur scoffed, "I doubt the kingdom would be happy with a sorcerer for a King."

Some might… Merlin thought gently, though he knew that, having lived with Uther's prejudices for over twenty years, most of Camelot was probably engraved with the belief that magic was evil.

So, instead of trying to disprove Arthur's theory, he decided on an alternative to letting Arthur leave. "We could go and talk to Gaius about it."

Arthur shook his head firmly, "No. No-one else can know."

"But-,"

"I will not let either of us end up on the pyre!"

Arthur whirled around to face Merlin and his eyes were once again gold – this time, only for a second. Something hit the back of Merlin's head and he moaned, rubbing the tender injury gingerly. Arthur's goblet was lying on the floor by Merlin's feet.

Regardless of the goblet, and the yelling, Merlin took a small ounce of confidence in Arthur's seeming reluctance to let Merlin end up executed. Maybe there was some hope for him, for their friendship.

Arthur passed Merlin and moved back to the bag he had been packing before Merlin had revealed his magic. He leaned against the table, a sigh of desperation escaping his mouth.

"Get out." Arthur muttered, and it sounded so much like it had in their fight the night before that Merlin shuddered. How much had changed between them in only twenty four hours? How many truths had surfaced and shaken up their friendship in such a monumental way, in such an unbelievably short time? "Get out, while you still have the time."

Merlin frowned, "Arthur-,"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted, growling, "I swear, if my father doesn't execute you, I will, unless you get out of here."

But Merlin refused. He stood, rooted to the ground, his presence at Arthur's side gentle. "The last time you told me to get out," the warlock spoke up, "you ended up having a horrible nightmare of your own execution. I should've helped you and I didn't. But I have a chance to now, and I'm not leaving you."

Arthur didn't seem to care about Merlin's heartfelt words. His mind was on other matters. His eyebrows were raised incredulously, "How did you know about the contents of my dream?"

"Oh." Merlin swallowed. Arthur nodded, slowly, a sarcastic look on his face. Merlin took slight comfort from it, because it was reminiscent of their friendship and so kept him going, kept him fighting. He tried to come up with a pitiable excuse for knowing something Arthur's hadn't shared yet, but sighed as he remembered his vow – no lies, no secrets. "I wanted to know what was going on in your head and, well, you wouldn't tell me. So I… might have entered your dreams to see."

Arthur froze for a few seconds, a look of mixed confusion, disbelief, and almost amusement across his face. "You came into my head?"

Merlin shrugged, like it didn't really matter, "Only to protect you."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief and sighed. "You invaded my privacy. And now you want me to trust you."

Merlin remained silent, unable to form a sentence which would defend his case. It didn't seem that he needed it, though. Arthur was at the end of his rope and seemed unsure of where to go, what to do.

"How can I know that Gaius can be trusted with my secret? He is loyal to my father – surely he would tell him."

"He wouldn't." Merlin knew exactly what to say at this point. He trusted Gaius with his life, with his secret, and he knew he could trust him with Arthur's, too.

"How can you be so sure?"

Merlin bit his lip, not knowing whether his next comment would save him or condemn him, "Gaius wouldn't tell. He knows about my magic."

Arthur's reaction was a sarcastically amused snort, "Of course he does." He muttered, "Should've seen it coming. And I suppose Guinevere knows as well? Morgana? My knights, perhaps?"

Merlin gulped, "Well… Gwen doesn't know."

"Great." Arthur drawled.

"Anyone who does know only knows by accident." Merlin continued, "Gaius knows because I saved his life on the day we met, with my magic. Lancelot knows because I enchanted his lance when he rode out to kill the griffin."

"They've known that long?"

"Well… yeah."

"And you were the one who killed the griffin?"

"I only helped."

Arthur was clearly beyond snide comments now. His anger and malice had completely subsided, and he seemed to, for the first time, be considering Merlin's suggestion of seeing Gaius.

"Alright. Fine." He said, before retrieving his sword from the floor in the centre of the room.

"Arthur, you won't need a sword-," Merlin began, but Arthur was already at the door, his weapon at his side, and the look on Arthur's face made it clear that he wasn't going to surrender it. Merlin swallowed a lump in his throat, counted to ten, and then followed the Prince out of the door.

Arthur strode purposefully through the dawn-lit corridors, keeping a wary distance from the man at his side. Merlin had convinced him that the only option, before he did something irrational, was to go to Gaius. The Court Physician would help, Merlin was sure of it.

But was Arthur sure of Merlin? Well, that was a different matter. Every so often as they walked, Arthur peered over at his friend; the sorcerer who had eluded him for so long that it had taken Arthur obtaining magic himself for Merlin to build the courage to break down the wall he'd so strongly and securely built over the years.

But Merlin would pop his head up too; to catch Arthur's suspicious eyes for only a second before the Prince diverted his gaze, unable to get the image of the gold tint in Merlin's blue eyes out of his mind.

Footsteps sounded around the corner from where the men were. Arthur, who had brought his sword in case of any trouble (from a stranger, a guard, or maybe even his company), gripped the handle tightly, thinking that he would protect Merlin should he need to before realising with a growl that Merlin could probably protect himself.

However neither the sword, nor Merlin's magic, were of need. Guinevere was the one to round the corridor, her eyes widening as they landed on Arthur. Arthur dropped his sword and ran to his love, remembering the last time he talked to her (in a dream, that is) with a sullen heart.

"Arthur?" Guinevere said, startled as the Prince enveloped her in a hug. He rocked her softly, from side to side - it comforted him for a moment.

"Guinevere," He breathed, "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

"Why?" Gwen asked, as Merlin approached behind Arthur. He kept a respectful distance from the couple, though, allowing them space. He held Arthur's sword in his hand but for the moment Arthur did not care.

Guinevere placed her palm on Arthur's cheek and gazed up into his blue eyes. "Arthur, is everything alright? What happened?"

The Prince bit his lip, feeling guilty at the thought that he hadn't entrusted Guinevere with his secrets sooner. "It's a long story."

"Well, if you wish to, you can share it with me." Guinevere said, "I will listen."

"Um, I hate to interrupt," Merlin spoke up. Arthur turned to face him with a small scowl, but Merlin continued speaking nonetheless, "Arthur, we need to get to Gaius before he leaves later on for his duties." Merlin then addressed Guinevere, "Gwen, you can come if you want. We'll explain everything there."

Guinevere nodded. Merlin passed Arthur back his sword before carrying on down the corridor. Arthur stood with Gwen for a moment before he followed suit, dragging Guinevere with him by her hand.

"Whatever this is, it must be urgent." Guinevere spoke up after a few seconds silence.

"Hmm?" Arthur mumbled.

"You and Merlin." She explained, "Whatever you're going to see Gaius about… it's very important, isn't it?"

Arthur bit his lip, considering just how much he really wanted to confide in Guinevere. How could he tell her that both he and his manservant were sorcerers? He didn't know how he expected her to react to something like that. Guinevere's father was, after all, killed as a result of secrecies to do with magic. How would she react to finding that the man she loved was a sorcerer himself? She was a kind, sympathetic woman – surely she would understand?

He swallowed, his loyalty to Guinevere overpowering his logical sense of self-preservation. Besides, Guinevere was as loyal to him as he was to her.

"Yes, Guinevere." He murmured, squeezing her hand. "It is of the utmost importance."

Guinevere's brow creased a little in worry. "Well, what's happening? Is the kingdom being attacked?"

Arthur remained silent, unsure of how to reply to Guinevere's question and so refusing to. However that wasn't his best plan and Guinevere tugged him to a stop.

"Arthur?" She questioned. Arthur could see out of the corner of his eye that Merlin had stopped too, and was stood a few metres from the couple. "Arthur. You're scaring me." Gwen said softly, "Please, tell me what is going on."

He didn't know why, but Arthur found himself looking to Merlin, as if asking his permission. Merlin nodded gently, and so Arthur turned back to Guinevere.

"Do you trust me?" He asked her, holding onto her wrists as if he was worried she would run off should he let go.

"…Arthur?"

"Just answer me, Guinevere." Arthur said desperately, "Do you trust me?"

Guinevere frowned, "Of course I do." She said, "Why?"

Arthur bit his lip. His magic bubbled inside of him, like an eager child awaiting their parent's permission to go and play. It gently pushed at Arthur, encouraging. It wanted to show off, and Arthur felt pleasantly surprised as he realised that the intentions of his magic weren't to hurt, but to just impress. Arthur knew no spells, but his magic seemed to need no help. It just told him to close his eyes, to focus on his love for Guinevere, his care for her, and so he did. He took a few steps back, dropping her wrists.

A gust of wind whistled softly through the corridor. Something possessed Arthur for a second and, against all his beliefs, he willed his magic to do its work. The magic cheered all around him in excitement at being able to show itself off to Guinevere, the woman its master loved, and so it willingly responded to Arthur's instructions, weaving a beautiful spell together that was similar to something Arthur had seen before.

Arthur's eyes opened, and he could hear Guinevere gasp, but he was far too focused on what his magic – what he – had created.

A small ball of light floated between the pair, just above their heads. It was red; deep red; Camelot red. But it was also the red of love; passionate and warm, and Arthur somehow found all his dark, prejudiced beliefs on magic evaporate for the moment as he stared at the beautiful ball of light that promised that everything would be alright. As Arthur's emotions weren't out of control (like before) and his magic hadn't been trained, so was not strong, the light was no bigger than a piece of fruit. But this did not matter, because it shone brilliantly nonetheless, like a light to guide the way.

Arthur smiled suddenly, as he remembered with fondness, a time so many years ago when he tried to save Merlin from death by finding the Mortaeus flower. A similar light – only one that was larger, and blue rather than red – had saved his life back then.

He was still sceptical of magic, and his magic particularly, and his future now was still a dark puzzle that he had yet to unravel. But in that short moment of time, he saw magic as nothing but a beautiful gift.

Arthur's magic was swelling proudly at its master's astonishment, and the ball of light shone its brightest before innocently fading away. Guinevere stared at the place it had been for a full five seconds before looking back at Arthur with a look which was a mixture of astonishment, disbelief, awe, and fear. Carefully, she spoke. "You have magic."

Arthur swallowed, feeling Merlin's presence at his shoulder.

"We both do." Arthur corrected.

Guinevere turned to Merlin this time. "Is this true?" She asked. Merlin nodded, but he did not dare to demonstrate his magic like Arthur had, in case the displays overwhelmed the maidservant.

Guinevere seemed lost in her thoughts, confused. Arthur wanted nothing more than to reach out, hold Guinevere, and promise her that everything would be okay. But her reaction to his sorcery in his dream was the only thing holding him back. He didn't want to frighten her, and he feared that, should he make a wrong move, he would lose her forever.

Fortunately, Merlin was there to do what Arthur didn't have the guts to. "Gwen," He muttered. "We won't hurt you." She gazed up at him, and at Arthur, but the gaze was no longer one of fear. It was an acceptance – a confused, wary acceptance – but that nonetheless. Perhaps Gwen was remembering their previous conversation: "Do you trust me?" "Of course."

Once again, Arthur felt his pride for Guinevere swell. She stood confidently as she spoke to the two men in front of her, despite what she had just learnt, with the same kindness she would have before she discovered their secret. "I wish to come with you." She said bravely, "I want to understand – whatever it is you need to speak to Gaius about, I want to hear, too. If that's okay."

Both of the men nodded in response, neither having any objection to her presence, because her trust in them was a mutual, returned thing.

She then clenched onto Arthur's hand. He looked down at it in disbelief, in happiness. Gwen gave him a soft smile, and she followed Merlin down the corridor towards Gaius' chambers.

A/N: I couldn't not put a little bit of Arwen in there. I mean, I love them too much. I really enjoyed writing Arthur's magic and it's excitement at showing off to Gwen :D

As for the Merlin and Arthur conversation, well, I had Arthur react in that way because of his magic and his out-of-control emotions, at the time. We all saw how out-of-hand Morgana's magic got when she was afraid, so Merlin was lucky to get out of that conversation so unscathed :P

I hope you guys enjoyed it! I'd love to see your reactions in a review :)

~Amy x