Merlin built the fire as he talked. It gave him something to do, something else to look at as he told Arthur about the times he had saved his life, the times he had lied to him.
Merlin felt like Arthur's eyes were on him, but every time he looked up Arthur was staring into the darkness or the fire.
So Merlin talked. He told Arthur about Sir Valiant, about Edwin Muirden, about Sophia, Nimueh, the Questing Beast, Cedric, Hengist, the Fisher King, the Crystal Cave, the Cup of Life, the Dorocha, Derian, Dragoon, Lancelot's return, Bertilak. The stories seemed to pour out of him, as if he had been treasuring them up for a long time, just waiting to tell them. He spoke for hours until his voice was hoarse. It was impossible to avoid mentioning that Gaius knew of his magic, and he had no qualms about admitting that Lancelot did, but he avoided incriminating Gwaine or Anwen, and very carefully expurgated from his stories any mention of Kilgarrah or Aithusa. He also wasn't sure what to tell him about Mordred, so he told him nothing.
"So that was how I got us through the Impenetrable Forest," he finally said, "and then I stopped the enchanted sword from stabbing Elyan in the heart." He stopped abruptly and looked over at Arthur. He was staring into the fire, his arms wrapped around his knees. Arthur was silent for so long that Merlin wondered if he'd even realized Merlin had stopped speaking. Finally Arthur stirred.
"I think I knew," he admitted slowly: "deep down. There were so many signs, but I tried to ignore them. I found explanations for all of them—from the day your friend Will claimed that the magic in the fight at Ealdor was his. I think I suspected then—but I didn't want to believe that you were lying to me. That you were breaking a law that, had I known, I would have had to execute you for. So I found excuses—excuses that, in retrospect, made no sense. I said you were foolish, but you've never been foolish. A little silly sometimes, yes—but mostly silly when you were lying. I said you were a coward—but anyone who knew you even a little would know that you are one of the bravest men in Camelot. I said you were stupid, when really you were constantly fixing my mistakes. And God knows," he added with a bark of a laugh, "you obviously weren't spending that much time at the tavern!"
Merlin tried to echo his laugh, but no sound came out.
"So magic has saved my life, my kingdom, more then thirty times," Arthur said slowly. "And yet—it killed my mother."
Merlin looked down. "Arthur, there's something else you should know. About your mother." He glanced up to see Arthur scrutinizing his face. Merlin held his gaze. "Nimueh was a friend of your parents'. Your father, realizing that your mother couldn't conceive an heir for him, asked Nimueh to help her do so. Nimueh did so—but the price of giving a life is that one must be taken."
"That is what my mother's spirit told me. You said it was a lie."
"I couldn't let you kill your father. You never would have forgiven yourself."
Arthur looked down at his hands. "Thank you," he said at last. He looked up at Merlin with a small smile. "I suppose part of growing up is learning that your parents are human." He gave a deep sigh and rubbed his hand over his face. "So my father used magic, and inadvertently killed my mother. Did Nimueh know what would happen?"
Merlin shook his head. "I'm sure if she had known it was the Queen that would die, she would have known what the consequences would be. She would never have done it."
"And my father, out of guilt for my mother's death, declared magic evil and murdered all those with magic he could find." Arthur sat in silence for a moment, then stood up and paced back and forth for awhile on stiff legs. "It seems I owe you my life—even more than I thought I did." He looked up at Merlin. "And I'm grateful. I am. But Merlin, I am the King. I must uphold the laws of Camelot, or they mean nothing. I—" He looked away. "I have to think about this. About what it means."
Merlin swallowed hard and blinked back his tears. "I understand."
000
Arthur went to sleep soon afterward—or at least, pretended to do so, as Merlin did. When they got up the next morning, they realized they had never bothered to make any supper the night before. Rather than take the time to skin and cook the rabbits, they ate the bread and dried meat they had packed in case of emergencies, and headed back to Camelot. Neither of them alluded to what had passed the night before—indeed, they hardly spoke at all. It was a long and silent trudge home.
"Merlin?" Arthur said as Camelot came into sight.
"Yes?" Merlin looked up eagerly.
"If you ever tell anybody I was kidnapped by bandits in my own kingdom…"
"Don't worry; I know how to keep a secret. I mean—" Merlin turned bright red and fell silent again.
000
"Arthur!" Percival called out as they entered the courtyard. "Back already?"
"Yes," Arthur said abstractedly.
"What, did Merlin scare off all the game?"
"No," Arthur answered vaguely; "we just decided to come back. Where's Guinevere?"
"In the Council Chamber, I think," Percival answered. "Leon said they had a lot of official odds and ends of business to get through today. Now that you're back maybe they can get through it faster."
"Hm," Arthur said noncommittally. "Oh, good morning, Gaius."
"Good morning, Sire. Merlin, when you have a chance, there are some chores I need you to do."
"Where's Anna?"
"Gathering herbs."
"Go ahead and take the day off, Merlin."
Merlin, Gaius and Percival all turned to stare at Arthur. "What?" Merlin said.
"Take the day off." He took the rabbits out of Merlin's hand. "I'm sure someone else can take care of these, and I didn't sleep in my bed last night, so there's no need to make it." They were all still staring at him. "I can take care of myself for one day," he said testily. "Go ahead and help Gaius."
"Yes, Sir," Merlin said, barely moving his lips. He pressed them together and turned away, moving out of the courtyard so quickly that Gaius had to hurry to keep up with him.
Arthur was left with Percival, who still looked slightly stunned. "Here," he said roughly, shoving the rabbits into Percival's hand. "Find somebody to take care of these."
"Yes, Sire," Percival answered blankly as Arthur strode toward the Council Chamber.
Gwen smiled up at him sweetly when he came in, and the other members of the Council greeted him. Arthur's first thought had been to go straight to Gwen and talk to her about Merlin, but it was clear he wasn't going to be able to do that until they had finished taking care of the day's business. So he sat down and tried to listen. But it wasn't long before his mind started wandering away from taxes and wells and trade routes and back to Merlin. Over and over again he saw Merlin's eyes shining gold, the bandits flying backward through the air—just as Arthur had seen Morgana throw people backward. Merlin hadn't even had to raise his hand toward them like she did. A dozen men at once, too!
But there was an even bigger difference between Merlin and Morgana: Morgana would have killed them, while Merlin had only stunned a couple of them. Arthur was sure, from the stories Merlin had told him, that Merlin had great power—however modest he had been about it. He had had the strength to kill the bandits—but he had let them off with a little warning. His wasn't an irresponsible or destructive use of power.
"What do you think, Sire?"
Arthur's head snapped up. "Hm?"
"About the well, Sire," Geoffrey prompted him.
"I—" Arthur looked around at their expectant faces. "I'm sorry," he said, forcing a little laugh. "I'm afraid I really wasn't listening."
"You must be tired after your hunting trip," Gwen said calmly. "Why don't you go and rest? We can handle this."
Arthur nodded and rose. "Thank you. Gentlemen," he said, nodding to the rest of the Council, and left the room.
But he couldn't just go up to his room and take a nap or something. He was sure he would go mad if he were stuck pacing around and around like a lion in a cage. If he couldn't talk to Gwen, he could at least keep active, keep his mind off of his worries. On the spur of the moment, he ran down to the kitchens to fetch a little luncheon, and then went out to the training grounds, hoping that none of the Council members would see him and think it was strange that a man too tired to deal with Council business wasn't too tired to swing a sword.
When he reached the field, Elyan and Raynelle were running some of the newer knights through their paces. Gwaine, Elyan told him, was with Anna, escorting her "for protection" as she searched for herbs in the forest around Camelot. Actually, Arthur reflected, considering the people he himself had encountered last night, it wasn't a bad idea. At least that little band would think twice before attacking anyone again. He grinned a little at the thought of their shock. Imagine, a scrawny servant turning out to be a powerful wizard! And the servant of a Knight of Camelot, too! He glanced up to see Mordred staring at him with a half-smile.
"What is it, Sire?" Mordred asked, looking to share the joke.
Arthur remembered what Mordred—what any citizen of Camelot—would think of him if he found out what it was he found so funny. The thought sobered him immediately.
"Nothing. Let's try that disarming strategy I showed you the other day," he said, drawing his sword.
TBC
